#so many great moments even without the subs

[dorabellingham]

Big boy

wanings: none

characters: jobe x reader

summary: when your boyfriend's job is to keep you warm during the winter

may contain spelling and translation errors!

birmingham, england — december 30

It was one of those cold winter nights, where the icy wind seemed to cut through your skin even through layers of clothing. You were wrapped in a blanket, looking out the window as the streets of Birmingham were covered in a thin layer of snow. Winter there always took you by surprise, being much colder than what you were used to. You sighed, even more so when the wind howled loudly outside.

The sound of the door opening made you look back. Jobe walked in, taking up almost the entire door frame with his tall, broad body. He was 6'4", and with his strong arms, he was the kind of guy who didn't go unnoticed. That big boy, as SZA sang, was the exact definition of what a girl needed in the winter.

—Damn, it's so cold out there.

He commented, closing the door and shaking out his coat. A slight smile appeared on his lips, even as he rubbed his hands together to warm himself.

—You should wear more clothes, babe. —You said, still wrapped in the blanket. —I’m freezing just looking at you.

The youngest Bellingham smiled, that warm smile that always warmed your heart, even on the coldest nights. He took off his heavy coat and threw it on the couch, revealing his strong arms covered only by a short-sleeved t-shirt. He was the typical guy who wasn’t intimidated by the cold. While you shivered at the thought of going outside, Jobe acted as if the sub-zero temperature was just a cool spring breeze.

—Who needs a coat when you have arms like that?

He joked, flexing his muscles and winking at his girlfriend.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but smile. There was something so comforting and safe about his presence, especially on cold winter nights.

—Come here, big boy, warm me up.

Jobe didn’t need any further invitation. He walked over to you, sitting on the couch next to you and pulling you onto his lap with ease. Your legs dangled in the air for a second before finding a comfortable spot. He wrapped his arms around you, and you immediately felt his warmth envelop you.

—What would you do without me this winter, huh?

He asked, his voice low and husky, but full of amusement.

—I’d freeze, for sure! —You replied, snuggling even closer. The feeling of his strong arms around you was enough to drive away any chill. —You’re like a human heater.

—You know there’s nothing better than a great guy to keep you warm.

He said, chuckling to himself.

You couldn’t deny it. Being in Jobe’s arms during the winter was like finding the perfect refuge in the midst of the icy chaos. You were warm, safe, and the soft scent of his perfume enveloped you. You were silent for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being together.

—And not only that... —Jobe continued, as if reading your thoughts. —I’m also the guy who brings all your groceries in one trip. I bet you can’t do it alone.

You laughed, remembering all the times he had actually done that. It didn’t matter how many bags there were —Jobe always managed to bring them all in at once, balancing the groceries with ease as you followed him, almost in disbelief. It was impressive, to say the least.

—You really are useful for this! —You agreed, laughing. —I’ve never had to make more than one trip from the garage to the apartment again.

Jobe kissed the top of your head, still with that smile of someone who knew he was winning the debate.

—See? I’m the whole package. A true gentleman.

You just nodded, but you knew he was right. There was something special about being with someone like him—not just because of his physical appearance, but because of his presence, the sense of security and comfort he brought. Even in the midst of the most intense cold, Jobe was like a shield against it all.

The wind outside began to pick up, and the snow was now falling in thick flakes, covering the city streets. You looked out the window and mentally thanked yourself for being inside your house, in your boyfriend's arms. There was no place in the world you'd rather be right now.

—Are you hungry?

He asked after a while.

—A little...

You admitted, not wanting to move.

—I’ll make us something.

Jobe said, standing up with you still in his arms. He carried you to the kitchen with ease, while you laughed and protested that he didn’t have to do everything alone.

—I can walk, you know?

You said, laughing as he placed you on the kitchen counter.

—I know, but I like carrying you! —He replied, winking at you before starting to look for something to do. —Besides, who’s the big boy here?

You just watched as he started stirring the pots, feeling lucky to have him by your side. The winter might be relentless outside, but inside, with Jobe, you knew you would always be warm —both in body and in heart.

—Now —Jobe began, as he put the water to boil. —What do you want for dinner? I can make anything.

You watched him for a moment, biting your lower lip, as if you were considering it. Then, with a mischievous smile, you said:

—Anything that will keep me warm... but, more importantly, I want you.

Jobe stopped what he was doing, looking at you with a look that said here we go.

—I’m already enough to keep you warm, honey. —He said, walking over to you and planting a quick kiss on your forehead. —But, okay, I’ll make dinner special too.

And on that cold winter night, as the snow fell outside, you knew you wouldn’t need anything else but Jobe and his warmth to get through the cold.

[alotofpockets]

Opposites attract | Katie McCabe x Arsenal!Reader

Where Katie loses her temper during a match and you're on the receiving end of her punch

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.5k

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Arsenal was known for its family dynamic, but even within family’s there were links that didn’t work as well as others. Within Arsenal that was you and Katie, you both worked great with the team, just not always with each other.

The two of you were polar opposites. Katie was outspoken, and fierce. She was often described as an aggressive player, and had a tendency to let her emotions get the best of her on the pitch. You, on the other hand, were more reserved, practical, and strategic. You kept your cool even in the tensest moments. 

Your interactions with each other mostly consisted of professional exchanges, never really meeting outside of football. You of course had many team outings outside of football with the team, but either only one of you attended or you’d stay away from each other at it. The dynamic worked well enough for the team, so everyone just let it be what it was. 

After Katie got taken down for the fourth time against Tottenham, it was to no surprise to you that she got up and shoved the player that fouled her. You roll your eyes as you run over to aid Kim, who was trying to get in between Katie and Ashleigh Neville. The two of them are now yelling at each other and pointing angry fingers. Poor Kim you thought, as you arrived. 

Katie lifts her arm in a punching motion, and you’re quick to grab ahold of her arm and pull it back, “Katie, please calm down.” Katie in all her anger pulls her arm out of your hold only for her elbow to smash into your face. You stumble backwards and instantly reach for your face.

Somehow Katie immediately calms down when she realises that she hurt you. She left Asleigh Neville alone without a second thought and knelt to your side. “Shit, I'm sorry y/n. Are you alright?” You look up at her, “Just piss off, Katie.” She raises her hands and steps aside. The medical team comes to check you out since you were still clutching your face.

“Is it broken?” You ask them as you remove your hand to reveal a bloody nose. The medics get to work on checking it out. Katie steps forward to get to your side, but Steph holds her back “She told you to go away, mate, give her some space.” They worriedly look at your bloody face. “Since when do you care about y/n?” Beth asks when she joins the pair. 

With a furrowed brow Katie turns to Beth, “What are you talking about? I've always cared.” Beth snickers, “Well, maybe you should act on that, cause most people think that the two of you hate each other.”

“It's not broken,” You release a sigh of relief. “But your cheek has already started bruising a little, so I'm afraid you will get a black eye.” You look over to Katie and roll your eyes. All of this over a stupid tackle. You let the medical team help you up, and keep a cloth to your nose as they walk you off the field. 

Since there was already a bit of swelling in your cheek, they thought it was best to get you subbed off, as you hit the 60 minute mark anyways. You’re still annoyed though, cause you definitely could've played the full 90 minutes if Katie had just stayed calm. You watched the rest of the match on the sidelines with an ice pack held on your face. 

Beth’s words lingered on Katie’s mind. Did people really think you hated each other? Did you think she hated you? She was determined to take Beth’s advice and show that she did actually care about you.

You were confused when you heard a knock on your door the next morning, and your confusion grew even more when you realised who was at your door. “Katie, what are you doing here?” 

Katie’s focus was on your face, and the black eye that had fully made its way onto your face. “If you’re just going to keep staring, I’m closing the door.” Your words brought Katie back to reality. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. I am actually here to apologise for hurting you.” She holds up the small bouquet of flowers for you to take. “I know it’s not much, but I wanted to check in to see how you were doing, and tell you how terribly sorry I am for letting things get out of hand, and hurting you in the process.” 

You’re a little stunned by Katie’s apologies, never having expected her to do so, and definitely not in a home visit scenario. “Thank you, Katie. I appreciate it, really.” You take the flowers from her. Before you can say anything else, Katie reaches for something else. “I also got you some breakfast. Beth said you loved this place, but I didn’t know what you liked from their menu, so I got a bunch of stuff. I didn’t think just flowers would be enough.” 

The gigantic bag of food comes into your line of vision and your eyes widen. “That is food for a whole village.” You step to the side and watch Katie expectantly, “Are you not coming in to help me eat this massive bag of food?” 

Katie grins, maybe you didn’t hate her after all. “I’d love to.” She steps inside and follows you to the dinning table where she starts unpacking the various containers. You watch your table get fuller and fuller, “While I appreciate it, you know you didn’t have to do all of this right?” Katie looks up at you with sincere eyes, “I wanted to. I know we tend to have our differences, but I wanted to make sure that you didn’t think I hated you or something.” 

You shake your head instantly, “I never thought you did. We’re just polar opposites in our approaches to things, and sometimes those differences don’t click.” Katie sighs in relief before taking a seat. “That’s good to hear, and yeah we can have quite different approaches, but that doesn’t mean we can’t try to find a way to work better together.” In agreement you nod your head. “I’d like that.”

As you both start eating, the conversation flows more easily than you expected. You and Katie were usually not in a setting like this, but you had expected awkwardness or tension. Neither one was there, you felt comfortable sharing breakfast with the defender. 

Halfway through breakfast you catch Katie staring at your bruise again. “You know staring at it isn’t going to make it heal quicker, right?” Her face instantly turns serious. “I am really sorry about what happened yesterday. I lost my temper and you paid the price. I promise that it won’t happen again.” You smile appreciatively, “Apology accepted. I know you never meant to hurt me, but it did sting a little. Literally.” You eye Katie on the last word of the sentence and the both of you burst out laughing. 

Once you’ve calmed down, Katie turns to you. “Maybe you can teach me your ways of always staying calm out on the pitch?” You nod, “I can definitely do that, but only if you teach me how to stand up for myself more on the pitch. I think we could learn from each other and have more of a middle ground, what do you think?” Katie smiles and nobs, “I like that, it’s a deal.”

While your on pitch behaviours aren’t changed instantly, the team noticed an immediate difference in your and Katie’s relationship off the pitch. During training you actually worked together, and outside of football they saw the two of you in the same places for the first time in a long time. 

Since that apology breakfast, Katie had come over more often. At first it was just to ‘take care of you’ since she was the reason you were injured, though you kept insisting that you were totally fine. Once the bruise was fully healed, Katie couldn’t use the same excuse anymore, but you were also enjoying her presence so you didn’t need a reason.

It surprised you at first, how much you had in common with the defender, but once you set aside your differences, you and Katie grew closer together quickly. 

Then one day after practice Katie approached you. “I know we usually do breakfast, but there is this new restaurant that opened up near my place that I think you would really like. Could I take you there some time, maybe?” Your smile grows, “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Katie nervously looks up at you, “Yes, but it could be as just friends if you’d be more into that.” Your smile grows even bigger, “I never imagined I’d see the day when Katie McCabe would be nervous.” You chuckle lightly as a blush creeps up onto her cheeks. “I would love to go on a date with you.” You place a kiss on her cheek, and then turn and walk away. “Pick me up tonight at 6pm?” Katie smiles, “I’ll be there!”

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[sstrwbrryccke]

— bullying him pt.4 | sub soobin

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

tags: loser!nerd!soobin x bully!mean!reader, gn reader, sadistic reader, masochistic soobin, dubcon, hate fingering, sadist x masochistic relationship, mutual pining, mild violence, hurt w comfort, mean dirty talk, reader's genitals are unclear and can be interpreted as either a cock or a strap, misunderstandings, public bathroom indecency, bdsm, happy ending!!!

the long await part 4 is here!! i tagged everyone who wanted a part 4 i hope you aren't too irritated by the tag >.< i did this very tired and sleep deprived so i hope it makes sense HAHAHA

tags: @yaegerphobic @strwbrryjaem @ke4s @sk104kx @bennybenten @queer-n-here @sleeping143 @browni-bin @skinnyzlegendz @roturo @zuzuhasablog

something changed after that date, you could feel it, soobin could feel it and the other classmates felt it too. it was the lingering touches, the maintained gazes during class. the way he dared to stare for just a second longer. you didn't want to admit it, and it was initially easy to ignore the problem. it's not like you weren't used to overlooking soobin. he was simply an accessory in your eyes, what's the use in admiring the shine of a singular gem on a sapphire bracelet?

though, perhaps your dismissiveness was your greatest achilles heel after all. in the end, an undeniable itch would creep up on the back of your neck. like a minuscule mosquito sting that would bloom into large red welts. it started irritating you to a degree. sure you were blatantly ignoring the man, but can a contradiction not be such opposing parallels?

because how dare he, even for a second, ignore you back?

maybe it was the small sigh of relief he let out when you passed by, or the way he kept his head down low when he exited the class. when did it start to bother you so much?

no way. he would come running back. he always did and he always will, you know it in your bones, he will come back he will. what's a victim without a bully? a nerd without a jock??? a locker without a dim-witted loser to push into????????

you will wait it out, wait for him to come out crawling and kneeling, grasping at your leg like a devout to their divine deity— prayers forcing their way frantically out of his mouth.

but seconds tick by, days even, and suddenly it's been two weeks already with no movement. all silent on the battlefront. is this what it's like for drinks to fizzle out at the bottle of a can? when a songbird no longer sings for the morning sun? and the stars no longer shine for the moon? and whatever next poetic quote that rhymes with moon?

damn, what a sad and pathetic way to conclude it. so this is the ending chapter of the depressing story of a mega fluke and his cool fling.

is what you would say if you were the cowardly choi soobin!!!

because you weren't a pussy, and you certainly weren't one to give up on your pride. so be it, if he wants you to come to him, you'll give it to him.

☆★☆

your glare bore holes into the hunched back of choi soobin. now see, normally you wouldn't even gift that loser a glance in his direction, too risky to pay him attention and blow the cover of your unconventional connection after all. but this was a special occasion, and you felt like your nerves were lit on fire, like a hormonal teenager going through puberty again. it was abnormal for everyone else too, many did not even know the unimportant side character soobin was even associated with you, arguably the most interesting (or maybe the right word is known) person in the classroom.

the metal keys weigh heavy in your uniform pants (retrieved from the staffroom after many great excuses to convince your teacher), waiting for the right moment to pounce. come on soobin, you dare him to move. fall right into the metal prongs.

"—dude, hey— HEY!" one of your friends, kiwoo, shook your shoulder, hard enough that you broke your gaze just for a second. you snap your head at him, giving him an irritated look that makes him retreat his hand.

"what's with you?" he says, suspicious, "you've been glaring at soobin ever since he entered the classroom. what? he gave you bad head or something?"

"not funny." you roll your eyes.

"is there something happening between the two of you? it doesn't feel like a simple errand boy situation anymore. you're not nonchalant and mysterious for ignoring the question by the way."

you groan, this really wasn't the time for it. what kind of excuse can you even give him? that the weird situationship you had with soobin backfired and now you're acting like an angsty possessive insecure spouse trying to get him back? tough shit.

"it's not even that deep, kiwoo. he just pissed me off this morning, that's all." you scoff out an excuse, hoping that's enough to deter your nosy friend. you look back at where soobin was seated— shit where did he go?!

"what did he do now?—" "not the time, he's gone, where did he go?" you look around, irritation seeping into your voice.

"chill, he probably just went to the b—"

you stand up, muttering another alibi before dashing out of the classroom. you catch a glimpse of his white shirt turning the corner, bingo, he's headed to the restroom! your heart thumps in your throat as you approach the bathroom, was the dominos actually falling into place? you can't believe your stupid plan was working.

once you reach the entrance, you silently take a breath, getting ready for the confrontation. you step in, closing the restroom door behind you with the keys, and you hear an all too familiar gasp as the lock sets into place.

"oh, you, the door,"

his stupid voice stutters out (you missed hearing it), shaky eyes meeting yours. he was sweating visibly, like this was a horror game and he just came face to face with the final boss.

"so—sorry wrong room!" he turns around like an npc reciting a practised line, only to be met with the tile wall, what a dumb bunny. when he pivots back around, you are already eye-to-eye with him. his voice hitches, a pathetic excuse for a squeal, and the world spins— you pin him into the wall right behind him. he would crumble onto the floor right there if it weren't for your hands holding his wrists up.

there was a moment of silence between you two, his eyes scattering around as if the gum on the floor was suddenly so much more interesting than the person in front. he bites his bottom lip in fear.

"oh stop it i told you before to not bite your chapped lips." the first words exchanged, a command that he obeys immediately like following your words was as natural as breathing. you forgot how satisfying it was to order him around.

"care to explain why you're avoiding me?" your tone sharp and cutting; as if you were physically pressing a knife up against his chest. he tries to talk. lip trembling, eyes closing, but all that comes out is a fearful whimper. you click your tongue in irritation, releasing one of his wrists— which limply drops to his side like a ragdoll. using your free hand you grab his face, forcing him to look at you.

"answer."

he tears up, sniffling as he tries not to sob. "m' sorry... i—i'm sorry for ignoring you."

you felt a pang in your heart, you can't tell if it was guilt or anger. "shit quit apologising and just answer my question. why were you avoiding me."

his shoulders were raised all the way up as if he was expecting you to smack him across the cheek, his whole body was wrecked with trembles and you're impressed he wasn't full-on sobbing yet. his face was red and holy shit no fucking way he was hard. what a strong sense of deja vu, wasn't this exactly how this whole mess started in the first place? you just stare at him for a minute, shaking and quivering with a bulge, no answer on his tongue.

"are you fucking for real? what'd i expect from a masochistic dog. of course, you're getting off from this." you grit your teeth, was he just using you for a quick jerk? that this was his kink this whole time and he only ever saw you as a fuck partner? did he ignore you simply so you would snap and give him exactly what he wants???

and for some reason, you felt betrayed, as if there was actually some relationship between you two. how hypocritical too, did you not also see soobin as sexual relief? wasn't he supposed to be an obedient mouth that opened for your dick? why was your fist clenching and veins pumping as if you caught your long-term partner cheating???

"maybe the only way to get shit through your thick skull is to fuck it out of you huh? bend you over in front of everyone with your ass out as you get fucking drilled by a big fat cock? is that what you want?" your words come out forced and throbbing red with anger.

"i—"

you clasp a rough hand over his throat, though you didn't actually squeeze, he shuts up immediately, eyes wide and fingers quivering. you almost rip his pants down, taking his underwear as well in one swift motion. he snivels pathetically, helplessly being led around as you savagely grasp his hair. you pull him to the sink, forcing him to bend over in front of the mirror. he desperately clutches the edges of the sink with a grunt, otherwise he might be toppled over by your rough handling. his body leaning down with his elbows bent onto the sink edge.

you grip his hair, painfully hard, his scalp must be killing him. you lift his head up until he's staring at his face in the reflection. it was like a brush with scarlet paint used his face as a canvas. his cheeks red and trembling. tears bulge on the edge of his eyes, threatening to slip out any second. his lips long-bitten and bleeding.

"keep staring at your slutty self. watch how pathetic and ugly you're gonna look when you get your organs fucked out. if you break your gaze even for a second i'll fucking kill you."

you cuss with every malevolence in your soul, for a second soobin thinks you might actually kill him. he holds in his breath as if one more sound from him will settle the hatred in your heart and murder him. you spit down onto his ass, watching as it dribbles down, you abruptly prod at his hole. not waiting like you would before. breaking through the rim and forcing your finger in like an intruder.

he loudly groans out in agony, body shuddering and wavering. you smack him over the head. "quit moving so much. shit, i wasted so many stupid gifts on you. and to think i was saving up the actual fucking for something more special. like we were actually a couple or something. but now you're gonna get your organs reorganised in a public bathroom. i guess that's suiting for a whore like you."

he grits his teeth in pain, trying to endure the pain and the humiliation for you. he stares at himself in the mirror in despair, brows furrowed and his vision blurry, his glasses were knocked off his nose from all the movement, but he keeps looking at himself just like you commanded. not trying to disobey you. why did he do that for you? it pissed you to new heights. why was he still acting like he was a goodie two shoes who didn't want to displease you?

you thrust the finger in and out with no care, barely being assisted by your makeshift lube to slide against his walls. his soft whimpers barely slipping out. you press another finger against his hole and this time he does stir, he jerks away. incoherent protests come out when he feels the second finger try to enter.

"break! a break! please give me uh a break b—before the second!" he begs, on the verge of breaking into full sobs.

"what makes you think you can bargain?"

he shivers at your harsh words, head hanging in shame. it was so pathetic, you feel a small semblance of pity, spitting more on his ass to assist the second. but you weren't merciful by any standard and promptly slid the two fingers in.

his shoulders shake, feeling full already with the two fingers. tears finally slip out in both overwhelming pain and pleasure. he hadn't touched himself ever since the last time you two met.

your ruthless fingers pump in and out of his ass like you were digging for his stomach, violently pressing against his prostate. it hurts like crazy. a primal and animalistic type of pain. but oh man, the electricity zipping through his body was hitting all the right places. it felt so wrong yet so right. like he belonged here pressed underneath your feet and hands. this felt like pleasure. his dick was tall and alert, pent up and ready to burst. his body begged for more while his mind was praying for mercy.

he thrashes around with each new thrust, being unable to control his body as a guttural wail forces its way out of his mouth. the slopping of skin slapping skin fills your ears. you grunt as you tighten your hold on his hair, trying to get him to stop moving. the more you ram your fingers into his prostate, the more frantic he becomes, one of his hands coming up to weakly pry at your hand holding his hair. you let go of your grip on his scalp to instead pull his body flush against your chest, hand snaking to the front and onto his throat. your fingers ceasing to stop with its insane momentum.

"please— no more— have me—mercy! i'm so sorry i'm so sorry i'm sorry—" he begs endlessly, sobbing and shaking his head, struggling against your hold.

you ignore his pleas, hand trailing down from his throat to his lower stomach, you can feel the movement of your fingers. suddenly, you push your palm down on his lower abdomen, right above his prostate. just as your two fingers press into the glands. he cries out, head blanking into sparks of light and stars. his cock spasming as he spurts out white stripes, shooting onto the mirror. his hands that were frantically prying at your wrists limps down.

your lips curl into a cruel smile, a sense of satisfaction raking over your body. you slid your two fingers out of his hole. a scoff comes out, naturally.

"hah. you came? i wasn't even trying to pleasure you, and you came like a little..."

your nasty words drift off as you look at him in the mirror. the room is now uncomfortably quiet, only the weeping and sobbing of soobin echoing in the restroom. he looks like a wreck, not in a sexy, sweaty way. but in a heart-hanging, guilt-tripping way. his face was painted with tears, snot and substance. eyes closed and afraid to look up at you. his body exhausted and leaning against you, he didn't even have the energy to quiver.

you did this to him, you absolutely ruined his pretty face and his sweet eyes. you actually deserve hell. what was wrong with you? how could you do this to someone so cute and precious? soobin deserved the world and so much more, he deserved everything good and nice and sweet and right on this earth. but what happened at that moment, how did you get here?

suddenly it was like your throat was constricted and swollen, lips dry with unsaid words. what do you say? apologise? promise to leave him alone forever?

"i..."

"i'm sorry..." he beats you to it with shaky words.

"holy shit no— no no, don't apologise." you quickly mumble, holding him up.

"i— i was scared, i didn't know how you would react. because i think, i think i'm insane, i don't know what's wrong with me. i'm scared you would be disgusted" his words tumble out breathlessly, you just stare silently in shock.

"i'm sorry— i don't get myself either, because everything about you drives me crazy and i can't be around you— i know i'm a masochistic dog but i just can't help it— no matter what you do to me makes me like you more, d—don't hate me please. i'm such a freak—" his words are barely coherent as he sobs.

"shh shhh shh it's okay, calm down soobin, calm down." you try to comfort him, beyond confused and shocked. he's crying so hard he's hiccuping and stammering. you help him lean on a wall and he slides down, you frantically kneel down to try and ground him.

"i— i don't want you to hate me— but your attention just feels so good to me— anything— any attention you give me it just shakes me to my core... i couldn't do it anymore—hic— i had to avoid you hick—" he hides his face in his hands. you try to understand his words, your head spiralling in turmoil. he what? he avoided you because you gave him too much attention? what kind of fucked up logic was that? this was starting to sound like those cliche misunderstanding tropes in romcoms. nevermind that, you had a sexually confused pile of fluff to comfort.

"soobin breathe, hey, come on." you say as softly as you can, like you were trying to approach an injured bunny in the wild. no matter, your heart pangs with guilt as he keeps crying. you pull him into a hug on your lap, wrapping your arms tight around his frame. this seems to make him cry more, but he leans into you, knees bundled tight against his chest as he savours the warmth. you two stay on the floor in this strong embrace. you coo sweet and reassuring words into his ear as you rock him back and forth, doing your best to console him. kissing each tear as it falls.

his sobs quiet down with each passing minute until there was only silence and mute sniffling. it was bizarre to cuddle on the restroom floor, but it was nice, and you have to admit that you do like soobin in your arms. not embracing him in sex, but in comfort and simply to make him feel good. this was crazy hypocritical to say, considering he was partly crying due to your assholery.

after a few more minutes of silence, you glance at soobin, still hidden away by his hands. "soob, come on, look at me." you coo into his ear, and he makes a small noise of acknowledgement. your hands gently pry at his hands and he lets you remove his shield from his face. he looks at you pitifully, eyes red and puffy from the crying, pouting. you kiss his cheek, you don't know why you did it, but it felt right to. "do you want to talk to me now?"

he nods, but hides his face in your shoulder.

"i... i'm crazy and a freak. you hurt me, you humiliate me, you cause me so much pain."

you grimace, stroking his hair. yeah, that sounds about right. if there was one thing consistent about your inconsistent personality, it was how much of an asshole you are. if soobin was your salvation, it was like the angels gave you a second chance at life. but you honestly wouldn't blame them if the ground caved beneath you right now and sent you straight to hell. was it bad to say you enjoyed all the sadistic acts? probably. you can't lie and say you regret being a sadist. but if it makes it better, you do regret the pain soobin is feeling right now.

"but... please don't hate me for this..."

"i won't hate you, soobin." you encourage him to keep talking, shushing his worries away.

"i like all of it, i like it so much it drives me crazy. i'm abnormal, i know. and i get it if you think i'm disgusting. but i'm so obsessed with you. i think about the things you do to me every night, i replay it in my head over and over again until i'm touching myself again. the more you hurt me, the more i like you... but... but you kept avoiding me, and i thought you knew how i felt and you were disgusted... and if that was the case... i didn't want to get hurt anymore..." he confesses fully, face buried deep in your neck and you feel your shirt slowly wet with his tears again.

it was silence, absolute, bewilderment from your side. the quiet seems to gnaw at soobin's heart, because he lifts his head up, gaze lowered as he stutters. "i— i get it if you're disgusted, my feelings are so strang—"

"soobin, you're a proper, proper masochist, wow." you breathe out. lifting his face up gently with two of your hands. wiping away his tears with your sleeve.

"oh..." he just mouths, mind seemingly blank. confused by how mundane your reaction was.

"wait, so how'd you feel about what we did just then? did you like it?"

"i... didn't like you being angry at me..."

"but what about the feeling? the fingering? the rough treatment?"

he blushes. "i liked the rough treatment." he pauses for a moment. "and you paying attention to me again."

the both of you fall quiet and he crumbles at the scrutiny. you knew soobin was masochistic and that he liked you. this was not new information. shit, you knew this from the beginning. so what changed? why did you freak out and go ballistic? why'd you corner him and demand him to tell you why he avoided you? why'd you force him to endure all that pain?

"i... i was so mean to you today... i... because you kept, looking away from me, and, ignoring my gaze and avoiding me. i thought..." the words fall into noiseless void. burning on the tip of your tongue.

"i thought you didn't like me anymore,"

you admit, shame and humiliation weighing down your heart. for a self-proclaimed smartass, you were sure stupid and dense to your own emotions. when did it start? when did you actually start caring about the loser? maybe the answer was simpler than that, you never felt the feelings creeping up to you, because, in truth, you've always been looking at him. maybe that's why you picked on him so easily, always eyeing for his reaction. shit, what a twisted way your heart works. but damn did you have a lifetime of sins to atone for.

soobin was blinking up at you blearily, clearly confused and oblivious to the conclusion in your head. you pick up his cracked glasses from the ground, gently inserting them behind his ears. (you'll buy him another pair later.)

"you don't hate me?" his voice was weak and hopeful. you scoff.

"you're too easy to bully and pick on. it's the complete opposite idiot. i just have a shitty way to show my feelings, and you're unfortunately the victim." it takes a moment for him to process your words, and his face morphs into a cute kind of shock, he is ecstatic, you can tell by the way his dimples deepen. you really didn't deserve this man or any of the feelings he has, for some reason, god was merciful and sent the perfect masochistic man to slot into your sadistic tendencies.

"but... isn't our relationship weird?" he frowns.

"we crossed that line the moment i fingered you dude." he chuckles at this, caught off guard. and you appreciate the clear ringing of his laughter without any more denial.

"honestly, you picked such a shitty person to crush on. i'm the worst, i like being mean to you. i like humiliating you, i like the feeling of having you grovel at my feet."

his face reddens with each word, hiding his face into your shoulder again. you lean into him, appreciating the silky softness of his hair.

"i don't deserve you. i'm an idiot, it took what? months of sexual tension and emotional buildup for me to realise i actually like you instead of hating you?" you ramble, he snorts.

"but i'll make it up to you, i promise." you can tell he was blushing by the heated tips of his ears. this was nice, him in your lap. he's still a loser, but he's your loser. (gross, you reconsider taking everything back with this one thought.)

"let's get out of here first. screw class, we're gonna graduate anyways, what are the teachers gonna do?"

"and i should wear some pants..." he comments.

"that too."

☆★☆

you do a final check over at soobin, ointment applied and bandaged up. he looks out of place in your fancy bedroom and it makes you snicker. once a loser, forever a loser.

"okay, that's it. does it hurt anywhere else?" you ask, setting down the ointment. he's only injured slightly, it was mostly his bitten lip and some bruises from the rough handling.

he nods and you instantly look at him with concern. "where? where and what hurts?"

he exaggeratedly points at his heart and you scoff, rolling your eyes, trying your hardest not to smile at his antics. "what does the big baby want?"

soobin is pensive and shy at first, he wasn't expecting you to take his dramatics seriously. but soon his lips curl into a cheeky grin. "...cuddles, and kisses." you blush at the idea, grimacing. you stand up and walk away from him towards the bed.

soobin panics at your reaction. "s—sorry! i was being stupid, you don't have to take it seriously, don't leave me!"

"shut up, do you want it or not?" you say, sitting on the edge of the bed. arms stretched out. he grins widely, hurrying up to jump into your arms. you two roll over into the bed as you stretch the blanket to cover your bodies. you admire soobin's joyful expression, stroking his hair.

don't get it wrong, you still think such blatant displays of affection were cringe, and soobin was still a loser. but maybe it was never that deep, and you could definitely see yourself get used to this.

you lean down, your lips connecting with his, he feels so plush and soft underneath you. he's still a masochistic dog definitely, and you still think he's a pervert, but he's also so precious and lovable, there was so many things you could list about him.

you two separate. he seems beyond pleased with himself, burying his face into your neck. "i feel like this is all a dream, and i'm going to wake up."

"don't insult me, dream me could never kiss this well." you roll your eyes. he snickers.

"yeah, you're right. no one else could make me feel this way except real you."

you feel yourself grin, really grin. not out of malice, a grin of genuine satisfaction and joy. you feel your eyelids drooping as soobin drifts to sleep in your arms. if you told younger you that this was how things would turn out with soobin, they probably would've cussed and flipped you out.

oh well. they will come to accept it eventually anyways. this wasn't so bad after all.

end.

☆★☆ BONUS SCENE

soobin drools, senses heightened. tied up, gagged, blindfolded and a vibrator pressing at his cock. he wasn't going to last much longer. you were cruel, so fucking cruel. and he had no idea where you even were. did you leave him? how long has it been? minutes? hours? did you leave the room?

he was snapped back to reality by a harsh slap on his thigh. he trembles and sobs, curling into himself. he feels a pressure at the back of his head before the gag loosened up, allowing him to breathe and talk.

"pl—please, can't, can't— gon cum, can't hold it in. mercy, please mercy." he cries out, voice broken. he sobs and thrashes around. hoping he can charm his way out of this. he was going to burst any moment and he was going to be punished harshly for disobeying you.

"colour?" you whisper by his ear, making him jump with a whimper.

"g—green." he sniffles.

"good boy." you coo, stroking his chest, circling around one of his nipples. he cries, nerves jerking all over the place. "beg for it."

"please..." he begins, swallowing down a sob.

"please fuck me... please give me permission to cum— i— i can't last any longer— hic!"

you interrupt him with a large intrusion in his ass, he almost mewls in both pleasure and pain. "a—ah! so big, feeeels good, uhhg feels so good. love you, love you."

you grin cruelly, thrusting into him hard and accurate. the pleasure he was in twists into panic as he realises you hadn't given him permission to cum yet. and if you kept going at this pace, he was surely going to cum before your permission.

"w—wait ple—ease let me cum! i've been good, i've been good! please let me cum, i've been so good for you!" he snivels, were you going to be nice or heartless today? the closer he reaches to his climax, the more he frets. grovelling down at you, begging relentlessly for permission. before long, he feels his limit.

"i'm going to oh god i'm going to! i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm so disobedient i'm going to disobey you! i feel it— hic—" he cries louder, and just before he climaxes, you press down on his lower stomach, whispering in his ear.

"come for me baby."

with that, his body violently convulses, and his back arches as his mouth opens in a silent scream. cum forces its way out of his painfully hard dick, a guttural groan digs its way out as he empties completely onto the bed.

after his ejaculation, he huffs heavily, whines mixed in with his wheezing. you let him ride out his orgasm, pulling out of him. you untie him and take off the blindfold. kissing him sweetly.

"you did so well, you were so cute soob." you cheekily grin. he smiles tiredly up at you. body sore and thoroughly ruined. he stretches his arms out and you take it as a signal to lift him up into your lap.

he settles into your embrace like it is the most natural thing in the world. giggling into your shoulder. "that was amazing, i love you so much."

"i gueesss i love you." you tease.

"hey!"

you chuckle, kissing his cheek. "just kidding, i love you." soobin whispers a quiet 'i know.'

you two enjoy each other's company for a second, only interrupted by soobin's growling stomach. "greedy." you jab at him with a grin and he pouts.

"i'll get you something to eat at the convenience store." you shake your head, getting up to leave but soobin tugs at your sleeve.

"i'm going to be lonely, take me with you!"

you roll your eyes at his dramatic antics, but oblige anyways.

☆★☆

at the convenience store, you buy a simple bread bun for soobin, your hands warming up in your pockets as he enjoys his snack. it was a cold winter, and you wanted to return back to your apartment as soon as possible.

"yo!"

a vaguely familiar voice calls out, you turn around to be met with a recognizable face, a gasp on your lips—

"holy shit, kiwoo! i haven't seen you since graduation." soobin vaguely identify the man as one of your old high school friends.

"it's been quite a few years, hasn't it," he chuckles, though confusion was evident in his eyes as he recognises soobin.

"soobin? what are you doing here?" he pauses, glancing between you, and then soobin, and then you. like the gears of a clock slowly turning.

"you guys are still friends?" he asks.

you and soobin exchange a look. "not really." you chuckle.

he tilts his head and you dutifully wrap an arm around soobin's waist. a cheeky grin on your face as you show off the glinting gem on your finger.

"he's my fiance, obviously."

★★★ end ★★★

an: i hope you guys enjoyed the fic and the ending!!! it took a lot of contemplating on how i was going to end this highly anticipated series... i do have a lot of inbox asks for alternative realities and spin-offs, so i will probably work on them next!!! also so sorry for disappearing for like multiple months... i had been so busy with life help!!!

anyways... reshares and comments are always appreciated! please do let me know how you felt about the fic....

[illusioninfnty]

humiliate me ↠ day 25 ; humiliation

↠ vinsmoke sanji x reader

fandom: one piece word count: 1.8k warnings: nsfw 18+, pervy!Sanji, sub!Sanji, panty stealing, panty sniffing, pussy sniffing (?), degradation, masturbation, cock kicking, cum eating

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

Joining the Strawhat crew wasn’t something that you ever thought would be in your future, but when Luffy rolled up with all of his joyfulness and sincerity, you knew that it was the right decision for you.

And it was.

Until a certain cook joined your crew soon after you.

Sanji, in his defense, wasn’t all that bad. His food was the best you’ve ever had, and he was a great fighter whenever you guys needed helping out with whoever Luffy pissed off that week.

But that was when he wasn’t being a complete weirdo around you.

It wasn’t a secret that Sanji loved women, maybe a little too much. But lately his affections have been focused on you. And although Nami was grateful for it, smirking across the deck and catching your eye whenever Sanji approached you (as subtle as he thought he was being, it was quite obvious what his intentions were) it pissed you off to no end.

Lately, you’ve been noticing that more and more of your panties have been going missing. You were left with only a spare few, and you know that this amount of your underwear (and just your underwear) going missing was not a mere coincidence or laundry getting lost.

There was only one person on this goddamn ship that would be stupid—and horny—enough to steal so many of them without you noticing.

You knew exactly when he would go in and do it too; your routine never changed much from day to day. After you had dinner, you would go train for a couple of hours with Nami. You always felt like you were lagging behind everyone else when there were pirates or marines you needed to fight, and you wanted to make sure you weren’t dragging anyone else down with you.

Those training sessions left the women’s quarters completely free, and long enough for a certain someone to come in and take what he pleased.

You suck on your teeth as you come up with a plan to catch him in the act.

He wasn’t getting away with it this time. And you wanted your goddamn underwear back, too.

~

Sanji knew what he was doing was horrible, immoral, and very much unbecoming of a man like himself, but he just couldn't help it.

You always seemed to avoid Sanji compared to everyone else on the crew. The only opportunities he had to interact with you was when he was serving you food, or saving you in battle. Even then, you barely afforded him a glance.

The few moments that you acknowledged his presence were absolute blessings. He didn’t even care that most often you were glaring at him or sneering in his direction. In fact, he almost liked that better. His cock certainly did, with the way it stirred in his pants every time he saw you looking at him with disgust coating your features, and he had to conceal a boner whenever your hand would accidentally brush up against him.

His only relief came in the form of your panties. He had stumbled upon a pair when he was up early, preparing breakfast. It must have slipped from the rest of your laundry and you forgot about it. It was a thin pair, purple and lacy.

Sanji couldn’t control the way his body heated up just from seeing the pair. He made sure that no one was around, and picked up the pair. It was wrinkled, still dirty. You must’ve never even washed it yet.

Without thinking Sanji lifted the pair to his nose and took one long sniff. He had to bite his lip to contain his moan, and his cock sprang to life in his pants. He ran to the bathroom with your underwear in his hand, and jacked himself off to the smell of your pussy.

Now, Sanji has a routine. He knows exactly when you and Nami are out of the room, and during that time he’ll go in there, pick a new pair of panties, and jack off as he sticks his face in it. It was a foolproof plan, he thought, since you hadn’t caught him yet.

Today was no different. He makes sure no one else is around to see him, and slips in the women’s quarters. Making a beeline straight for where you keep your dirty laundry, he pulls out another pair. He hunkers down in the corner of your room, near your bed, and releases his cock from its constraints as he strokes himself off.

But then a door slams.

Sanji jumps up, hiding the panties behind his back. You’re never back this early, and despite the utter fear that rushes through his veins he can’t help but notice the way his cock throbs at the thought of being caught in the act by you.

“What are you doing?” You phrase it more like a statement than a question, anger clear in your tone.

Sanji blushes and his eyes widen. “N-nothing!” He fails to hide the amusement in his tone, and he knows you notice it too with the way your brow furrows and your eyes squint at him. 

You stomp on over to him, and he can see the glint of realization in your eyes when you spot the panties that he stole.

“It’s not what it—!” he’s interrupted by a kick in the gut from you. His stomach lurches from the force of it, but his cock stirs with aching need.

“Fucking pervert,” you growl out. “Stealing all my fucking underwear. I’ve got none left now!” You let out a frustrated groan and plop down onto your bed, crossing your arms as you glare down at him.

Despite how erect it is, Sanji attempts to tuck his cock back into his pants, partly in shame. He’s stopped by your foot pressing down on his hand. He looks up at you, quizzically, yet in a pleading manner.

“I’m not letting you get away with this,” you start. “If you’re that desperate to jerk off to me, then I want you to do it here.” Sanji can’t believe the words that leave your lips. His erection throbs and precum leaks from the lip, and he has to squeeze the base to keep himself from cumming at that very moment.

He gulps, tugging ever-so-lightly on his cock as he stares up at you. “In front of you?” he asks cautiously, desperately looking for your confirmation.

His answer comes in the form of a roll of your eyes, a snort and curt nod.

He doesn’t need anything else as he begins to stroke himself, hand slick from the wetness of his precum leaking out the tip. He hisses as he thumbs the head, squeezing the base so as to not cum so early in front of you and embarrass himself further.

Sanji strokes himself faster as he glances up at you and your disinterested face. It causes him to let out a shaky sigh, and rut even more intensely into his closed palm.

“Since you want to sniff me so badly,” you start to shimmy out of your bottoms, and Sanji thanks whatever god exists that he was holding onto his cock because he would have creamed himself right then and there.

You throw your shorts and underwear to the side and he has to do everything in his power not to pick them up from the ground. You spread your legs out in front of him, and Sanji just knows that he's drooling.

“You can sniff the real deal instead. Since I’m so nice.”

Sanji whines lowly in disappoint in not being able to fuck you, and of course, your sharp ears catch onto it.

“What, you thought that I would ever let you fuck me with that nub you call a cock? Yeah fucking right.”

You sit in front of him with your arms crossed, evaluating him. Heat rises to his face under the intensity of the stare. Even though you could give two shits about him, Sanji was just happy that your full attention was on him for the first time since he joined the crew.

“Th-thank you for letting me sniff you,” Sanji moans, and he desperately crawls closer to you, one hand still pumping his cock.

When he reaches your bare pussy, a strangled cry leaves his throat as he takes a big whiff. Your scent is just like the one he’s used to from your panties, only a hundred times stronger. His cock is sensitive from the force of his strokes, and unspilled tears form in his eyes from the different areas of stimulation.

One of your feet comes up to kick him gently in his cock, and he arches himself into your touch despite the pain. “Look at you. So pathetic,” you coo mockingly, laughing cruelly at the way Sanji reaches to smell your pussy to get himself off. “Aren’t you?” you ask him, albeit very forcefully.

Sanji gulps and nods. “I-I am,” he stutters out. “I’m pathetic.” His hand picks up speed, his orgasm so close as you spit curses at him and talk about him like he's just an ugly speck of dirt on the ground.

His moans and whimpers become louder and louder as he fucks into his own hand, bury ing his face as close to your pussy as you allow. The last straw comes when you pull on his hair, digging your fingers through the tresses.

“Such a fucking sorry excuse for a man,” is all you need to say and Sanji explodes, a mess of whines as cum spurts out of his cock in jets. It’s all over his body, the floor, your foot, and even the side of your bed.

He doesn’t open his eyes until his orgasm fully washes over him, and he pants rapidly, chest heaving up and down.

You barely react to it, just sneer at him. “You got your spunk all over me, you filthy mutt.” You shake your foot in disgust, but Sanji’s cum is too thick, it stays attached to where it landed.

Instead, you hold out your foot to him. “Clean it up,” you command. “With your tongue.”

“Of course, madam,” Sanji utters as he obediently dives in. He licks and sucks wherever he needs to, and eats his own cum without you even needing to tell him.

He even bends down to the floor, licking at the wooden surface where his cum landed. The hum of approval from your lips as he cleans up his mess has his cock stirring back to life.

When you’re fully cleaned up, you put your skirt back on and go back to ignoring Sanji, as if this whole encounter never happened.

“Can we do this again, madam?” he asks hesitantly.

You don’t even turn to look at him. “No. Now give me back my panties.”

[hispg]

Scandalous

Pairings: DI! Leon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your mentor Leon is angry that you risked your life. He needs to remind you not to do that again.

Wc:2.1k

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, p in v, spanking, orgasm control/denial, daddy kink, older! Leon, edging, age gap(not specified),dom! Leon, sub! Reader, porn without plot, shameless smut, crying during sex, pet names, public sex(?).

"Are you even listening to me?" Leon growls in your ear, his fingers moving in and out of your slit.

You just nod, your mind too foggy to think of anything else. You've already lost count of how long it's been since he started.

With your arms pinned above your head, bending over for him as he fucked you with his fingers, spanking your ass and growling in your ear constantly.

Your juices dripping down your legs, your ass red and sore, just as you were a whimpering mess.

What was all this about? He was punishing you for risking your life on the last mission, not only that but you hid a bruise from him. And as the great mentor he was, he needed to teach you why you shouldn't do that. He would make you remember to obey his every rule.

"What was going through your head?" He growls in your ear, taking his fingers out of your cunt, making you whimper at the emptiness he's left.

His hand finds your hair and pulls, his chest resting against your back while his cheek rests against yours, making him look directly at you.

"Answer me." Another growl, now he was making a point of rubbing his erection against you.

You swallowed, biting your lip and starting to say, "I'm sorry."

He scoffed, ruffling your hair again, "I don't understand. Say it again."

From the moment he realized you hesitated, he took his hand out of your hair and slapped you hard on the ass, leaving his five fingers marked on your cheek.

"Sorry, Daddy." You moaned, rolling your eyes and throwing your head back. You could already feel the sting of this slap, just as you could feel that it would leave its mark for a long time.

All you heard from him was a murmur, and he put his thumb on your clit, stroking you once more. Your head was spinning, you'd lost count of how many times he'd let you get close to orgasm, only to stop halfway and leave you wanting.

You deserved it, you fucking deserved it.

"What did daddy say to you? What the fuck did I say about taking inconsequential risks?" Again he hisses in your ear, putting two fingers inside your pussy, moving back and forth, hitting that weak spot of yours that makes you see stars every time.

"That I don't-" you stutter and bite your lip, your body shuddering as you feel him increasing the rhythm of his strokes, smoothing your clit with his thumb.

"Say it, baby girl. Answer me." He sounded more authoritative than he should have, not least because he needed to show you his dominance. He couldn't lose the sweet rookie that you were, there was no way he was going to let anything bad happen to you.

He was older, he'd been in this life for years, and he needed to protect you. The youngest rookie and innocent one, that was more than his responsibility. He was older, so he certainly knew what was best for you.

As soon as he felt your body shivering, your walls tightening around his fingers, the dirty, audible moans coming from your lips again and again. You were going to come, and he wasn't going to give it to you so easily.

"Daddy-," you cried, looking up at him with sly eyes as he withdrew his fingers from you, making it clear that you weren't going to come. Not now.

"If you're a good girl, maybe I'll let you come. But first I need to remind you that you have to obey me, don't you?" He didn't even let you answer him, he just lifted you up and sat with you on a bench.

Making you bend over his lap, he didn't care if you were in a corridor of the base, he didn't care if someone passed by and saw the two of you. The perfect view of your ass on his lap was too much, he already knew what he was going to do perfectly.

"Count with me," he whispers, running his palm over your reddened ass, caressing it and giving it a gentle squeeze. Acting like he was going to be gentle.

You knew it wouldn't be like that.

A smack echoed down the empty corridor, it had been the first slap. Your cheeks burned and ached, but that wouldn't stop him.

"One." You whimper, tears streaming down your cheeks. You had already lost count of how many times he had spanked your ass.

An amused smile escapes him, and he teases, "What? Already regretting it? I haven't even started, baby." As consolation he gives your ass a playful smack.

You just whimpered, pouting at him and wiping away your tears.

Maybe he was feeling sorry for you, but he gave you time to breathe. Whispering sweet nothings to you while caressing your inner thighs.

"You know you're a sweet little girl, don't you?" He purrs, just a tactic to get your attention, and then slaps your ass once more.

More than enough to make you swallow a sob, holding on tightly to the seat.

He gives you a serious look, indicating that he wanted you to continue counting.

"Two." You whisper, trying your best to keep your voice steady.

Another hum comes out of his mouth, and he strokes your ass, as if trying to smooth it over for you.

But he couldn't help, he felt a certain pity for the situation you were in. Your fluids were leaking from your little hole, you were so wet that his fingers slid in and out without him having to make any effort.

"Should I let you cum, doll?" A hypothetical question, because regardless of your answer he wouldn't listen.

He would just give you a taste, and you would only come with his permission. Only when he said yes.

Of course he hated putting you in that situation, but what could he do? You were his beloved rookie, the sweet girl he loved, he couldn't lose you. Not even in his dreams.

Apparently the slaps had stopped for the moment, he had better plans for you.

You were feeling so overwhelmed, the way you were sweating and shivering with every touch, taking sharp breaths every time.

And once again you rolled your eyes, whimpering when he put two digits into you. Moving slowly, so slowly that it was almost torture. You felt the sobs getting stuck in your throat, just as you felt the tears coming down once again, your body being over-stimulated, and yet you hadn't reached the edge once.

Every time he looked at you, he saw how aroused you were, your nipples hard and perked up. Your body trembling and panting for him, your lips quivering as you tried your best to control the noises escaping from you. Not only were the red marks on your ass more than enough to make his cock throb and harden even more, it was already starting to hurt the way his hard member was trapped in his pants.

And he made a point of pushing against you, so that you could feel the state he was in. No, he wasn't at all ashamed of what he was doing, not least because he couldn't wait to bury himself in you.

With both his hands, he spread your ass cheeks, making you jut out for him, so that he had the perfect view of you bending over his lap in such an obscene way.

"Please, please." You beg in a sob, desperate for him to let you come. It was too naughty to keep doing that.

He gives you a naughty little smile, minimally satisfied to leave you in this situation. There he went again, fingering you, this time he went faster, encouraging your clit whenever he could, stroking it with his thumb. Just to give you that feeling that you could reach heaven and hell at the same time.

"What? You're so cute when you're messy like this." A wicked smile forms on his lips, of course he was enjoying it all.

You squirming and moaning in his lap, whimpering and babbling nonsense here and there.

His jaw clenched, just as you could see every muscle in his arm twitching with every movement his hand made on your pussy. The sign of your walls clenching around him was enough to make his cock throb once more.

"Close, please." You whimpered, trying your best to make a sly voice that would convince him.

"Not yet." He whispers, once again bringing you to the edge, only to stop shortly afterwards.

You protest, a pout on your lips and a frown on your face. All he did was laugh, taking you off his lap for a moment.

The next thing you heard was the sound of the zipper opening and Leon undoing his belt. And there it was, hard as stone, pre-cum dripping down the head of his cock.

He pumps himself, slapping his lap and ordering, "Sit."

You obey without a second thought, positioning your soaked slit on his tip, not moving down until he tells you to.

"Good girl, such a sweet little thing." He purrs, one hand holding your hips and the other caressing your cheek, pulling you into a sloppy kiss, bringing your lips together.

You could feel him pressing his tip against you, his pre-cum sticking to you both. The sticky liquid mixing with your own juices.

"You're going to take it all, aren't you?" He says against your lips, biting the underside.

Before you could come up with an answer, he plunged you onto his cock, taking it all in at once, both of you moaning in anticipation.

"Oh... Shit, I'm going to come-" You moan loudly, unable to hold back your own orgasm. The sensation of having him stretch you out in such a way was too much for you to think about anything else.

"What is this? Who gave you permission?" He growls, holding your chin firmly. Making you look directly at him. His other hand holds your hip, preventing you from grinding against him.

"I-I... I'm sorry, Daddy." You say softly, pouting at him.

No, it wouldn't work this time.

"Don't tell me you were so eager to sit on that fucking cock? Mh? Just sitting on it made you cum, did it?" He asked, his voice full of malice and mockery.

You just bit your lip, starting to grind slowly, holding onto his shoulders for support.

"Please." You beg, giving him wet kisses on the cheek.

Without an answer, all you got was a thrust, both his hands gripping your hips and slamming into you hard. His hips moving with incomparable dexterity. You might have been on top, but he was in charge.

He dictated the rhythm and depth of the thrusts, he controlled you. And the greatest incentive was when your velvety walls tightened around him, your throbbing pussy crying out for more.

"Shit, fucking tight." He grunted, hammering his cock into you even harder.

Your eyes rolling back, hips rolling against his, mouth half open and the most impure moans and whimpers coming out of you. The vision was more than perfect for him.

He couldn't stop noticing the way your breasts swayed as you bounced on his cock. His nails in your skin, strong enough to leave marks the next day, as if the slaps hadn't been enough.

From the grunts and growls he let out from time to time, you could bet he was close.

"I'm going to come, inside, that's what you want, isn't it?" He teased, his hands coming down to grip your ass cheeks and spread them open, giving a few playful slaps in the process.

His mouth went to your nipple, swirling his tongue around your hard nipple, sucking as if for the last time. By then you were high, your moans echoing through the empty corridor as you rocked your hips against his.

The last straw was when you squeezed even tighter around him, your body collapsing as you wet his cock for the second time, making your body go numb at the same moment.

His last thrust was deep, grabbing you and pulling you down, going as deep as he could. His seed invaded you, so much so that you could feel the hot liquid oozing out.

His hair stuck to his forehead, his breathing heavy, his body even a little shaky after the orgasm. Oh, you could be sure he enjoyed it as much as you did.

His arms wrap around you and he pulls you close, rocking you and comforting you like a baby. This while he himself was trying to recover from his high.

"Take your time, catch your breath," he whispered, this close to your ear, taking the opportunity to nibble lightly on your earlobe. Only to whisper once more:

"We're not done yet."

[anyseany]

Fantasize - Bangchan

Author's note: I didn't think I could write about it and I would like to, so I sent it in the form of requests to some writers that I consider enough to do such a feat. But here is my version, I hope others do your reading too, this idea deserves many versions.

Voyver! Boyfriend / Chan!idol x Yn! Fem reader 

📍 dumbfication, daddykink, spit, creampie, cum inside, Pet nicknames (baby, princess, love, etc), chan dom, yn sub, without protection, subspace, oral, skrit, High confident Chan. 

"I think your act is beautiful, I wouldn't get this beautiful girl with anyone else." Chan says touching his chin, while you sitting the bed follows him as if he were looking at a Greek god, the middle of his legs tight and wet in the short plaid skirt. And your boyfriend with a serious face in front of the armchair.

"She deserves it, she was a good girl." He says sighing, it wasn't your gift dream, but he would do anything for you, until he gave you on a tray to your favorite idol.

"Oh, did she go?" Chan's fingers hold your chin, and you swallow dryly when you see his arm tense on the black tank top. "Is she always good like that?" He leans over watching his blushed face well, and you seemed nothing less than glazed on his face, panting.

"At first she was rougher, because she had never been in a relationship, but then she managed to relax, and she is more than good." Your boyfriend explains looking carefully at all your movements, he felt invisible, you didn't even blink while looking at the man touching you.

"Ah.. so I'm your second little girl?" He asks caressing your jaw and you nod. "How modest." Chan laughs. "Shall we take off this blouse? Show dad everything, except the skirt, princess." He says serious, releasing his chin, watches you taking piece by piece, leaving only the blue skirt. "So beautiful, you are perfect doll."

Chan's voice makes you tremble a little, he exhaled an aura that completely dominated you, you felt helpless and weak, you just wanted to please him.

The shirt flies from Chan's body, pulling a sigh out of you. "Let's go for the basics, okay? I don't want to scare you." He says tender, changing the tone completely, sitting next to you facing your body, his hand snakes to the middle of your legs, touching your clitoris making you gaspe and hold the strong wrist as support. "Wet.. very wet." He says while hearing the embarrassing noises of his fingers, and his panting breath.

Chan lays down his body opening his legs more, giving a great view to his boyfriend, who was moving in the armchair uncomfortable. "Your breasts are so beautiful love.. they fit perfectly in my mouth."

Chan says before completely gribbing one of your breasts, making you arch your back, and whine loudly. His fingers increase in pace when he feels his stronger lubrication. And when he tries to insert a finger, he moans with his breast in his mouth, thinking about how tight you were.

"Damn, how do you get into it?" Chan says as he gets up, and his boyfriend shrugs, somewhat annoyed.

"I'm just careful, she can handle it." He says and chan sighs, sooting not to agine his cock being so tight that way at that moment.

One, two, three fingers were enough to make you roll your eyes, and make chan reach the point of almost insanity, the fast fingers, made a loud noise and his moans accompanied without shame anymore.

"Chan-chan, can I come, p-please!" Chan looks at you surprised by the question, were you so well trained?

"So good for asking, come to daddy love." The simple words make you tremble and close your legs with his hand in the middle, while you ride your high.

Your boyfriend stirs once again, feeling hard and jealous, you never came so strong at first with him.

"Princess? Do I need you to tell me, with protection or not?" Chan bends down to the height of his vitreous eyes, falling in love with his fucked face, caressing the side of his face.

"S-no, daddy, no." Chan cracks his jaw with the answer and nods, holding his face with one hand, and lifting the upper of his body easily, his hands cling to his firm wrist, and he sides the side of the end of the bed, so that his boyfriend has full vision.

"She likes crampie, in case you want to know." Your boyfriend murmurs against his taste, and chan turns to you as if he had seen something rare.

"Does the princess like to feel full?" He says and touches below your stomach, where your uterus would be, and presses lightly, giving you goosebumps. "Do you want my fucking here? Dripping from you?"

It was the end, you rolled your eyes just with that line, and nodded almost desperate. "Yes, Dad, I want to be full"

Chan smiles and moves away to lower his pants, the thick and not at all small cock appeared and made you sigh, would that fit?

"Let's go slowly, baby, I don't want to hurt your princess parts, hm?" He says lying partially on top of your body, watching you nod the speech, your arms surround his neck, and when the thick tip meets the tight entrance, he slowly enters, moaning immediately by the grip, you tilt your head without ever imagining what it would be like to be widened like that.

As much as her boyfriend was not small, he was not like chan, he lifted his body little by little, to have greater control of the slowness, and not to go crazy listening to his sighs and moans.

"Damn, look at this.." he says growling, seeing the cock almost completely inside. "Almost princess, a little more, can you do it? Do you feel good?" Damn, taking care of you at a time like this made you more horny, he moans feeling your grip.

"Yes, you can go, Dad, continue." Look where you connect, you watch the complete junction of your hips, and it was inevitable, the thick tip redding in the mouth of your uterus, the surreal widening and the feeling of being full was enough to make you cum again untouched, squeezing chan that held himself while squeezing your waist strongly to prevent you from moving too much.

"Did you just come with my cock inside?" He asks incredulously, seeing the white circle wrapped around his cock. "Fuck girl." He says feeling even more like fucking you, his state was almost deplorable if it wasn't beautiful. Your boyfriend was discredited watching the whole scene.

Leaning on you again and filling your face with kisses, kissing your neck, breasts and mouth, chan tries to wait for your high to go down a little, and has you returning the caresses after a while.

"You can go, dad." His low phrase makes chan's hips involuntarily move away and meet his again, making both moan.

The beginning of the lunges was romantic and calm, but after chan gets up again, he increases the strength and rhythm, both listen to the bed squeak and swing with the lunges, so overloaded and full, you moaned, while holding your breasts, preventing them from jumping too much.

"Where were you all this time? Dad always looked for a princess like that." Chan talks while still sinking into you, making your situation worse." So beautiful, such a good girl, taking daddy as if it were nothing." He releases your waist and holds your leg tightly, leaving the sample of your finger marks on your skin.

"F-background, p-dad! Ch-filled!" His words were more than random, chan was finally fucking you dumb, it was more than a dream.

"I need you to become a princess." He says stopping completely and leaving you, making you growl, and gives you a nice slap on the thigh, helping you turn around as if it weighed nothing. "You're not going to leave dad without seeing that beautiful ass, are you?" He says as he watches you position yourself on all fours in front of him, sighing with the position he enters again, making you moan loudly while grabbing the sheets. "Shin it.. what a bottom."

Chan begins to lose the pity of his small body, going harder, with brutality, his moans encouraged him and you felt in an irrational subspace.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" You repeated like a sacred mantra, the slap on your ass made you jump weakly forward, your left hand held your skirt like a lever and your right hand went to your neck, pulling your body a perfect bow to meet chan's face.

"You're so fucked princess, so beautiful crying, I think I fell in love with you." He confesses in your ear, making you hold your wrist on his neck, while listening to him carefully "your pussy was born for my cock, we can't separate them, can we?" His murmurs in agreement only increased Chan's ego. "I need you to tell me if you want inside, or not, before I decide." He says taking his hand from his neck to his hair, still supporting you, while stocking you until eternity.

"Inside, inside daddy, inside!" Another slap makes you moan and he pulls you by the neck again,

"Open your mouth, baby." He says and you obey blindly, and moan when you feel the spitting ball go down your throat. "So good, my love." He praises and takes his hand back to your intimacy, using his fingers to help you come. "How about coming to dad? Daddy will have to give all his little children, you will be such a beautiful mom, hm? Do you want princess?"

Her high-pitched moan exceeded the expectations of her boyfriend who was dumbfounded, and soon became incredulous when he saw you squirt, wetting the bed and the skirt you wore.

Still feeling your grip, chan shamelessly turns you without leaving you, and stocks up again in an animalistic way, moaning for whoever wanted to hear. "Such a good girl, such a good princess." And holding his waist firmly, he has his orgasms while throwing his head back, feeling ropes and more ropes coming out of him, as had never happened before, you stirred, feeling hot and full, loving the feeling, completely sensitive and silly, and chan when he opened his eyes, felt even more in love.

"Hm, I think already-" your boyfriend was cut off when chan withdrew from you, with his cock all honeyed and still a little hard, and made a point of turning his legs to him showing all the sperm coming out, gushing from his intimate as if it were yours. The thick fingers quickly punched inside again, making you squirm, sensitive.

"Opedy princess, full as I promised." Chan says and sees you still completely absorbed in her subconscious. "Princess? Talk to me." He says it's when you get up with his help, stare at him in a vitreous way, going down his face and finding the beautiful cock still honeyed. "Princess?" Chan tries to get his attention, but his quick movement in getting on his knees on the bed and bending down to take the member to his mouth, cleaned all the remnants of sperm, making Chan moan somewhat surprised.

"What the fuck.." her boyfriend was going to intervene, but Chan raised his hand stopping him.

"This is called a subconscious state, she hasn't fully returned, it's almost an impulse, and it's dangerous to intervene." Chan says and her boyfriend keeps watching you suck another man's cock with pleasure. "Hey, hey, princess.. I'm fine, thank you." He gently touches your shoulders, making you get up and look as if it were something precious. "Are you okay? If so, wave to me" chan says caressing your face and you nod slowly, blinking slowly. "Great princess, I'm going to take a bath for you, I need you to lie down." Chan says slowly while helping you lie down. "Good girl." He praises and kisses your forehead, your nose, and seals your mouth, seeing you breathe slowly and smile minimally at him, warming your heart.

Her boyfriend had two problems now, one between his legs, and an inferiority syndrome that he doesn't know if he could repair.

[yanderestarangel]

HEADKANONS MK1 - TRIO LIN KUEI + FRIEND!READER | PART 2 - AFTER BI HAN'S BETRAYAL .

A/N: This is a continuation of this post here, you don't need to read it, but it's good to give some context.

TW: afab reader, smut, angst, dark!bi han, nsfw, plot follows the canon line of mk1 (with the ending of tomas, kuai liang and bi han), tomas x reader, bi han x reader, soft!dom bi han, v!sex, oral (f!re), temperature!play.

✧ ENDING 1 | STAY WITH KUAI LIANG AND TOMAS VRABADA

The news that bi han had become a tyrant and had betrayed lin kuei values ​​came as a shock to you. Seeing Kuai Liang and Tomas with looks of anger and disappointment broke your heart - mainly due to the fact that they packed all their personal belongings in a hurry, afraid of what might happen if Bi Han found them there after the fight they had.

You didn't know what to think at that moment, it seemed like the weather had frozen, your knees felt weak thinking that Bi Han, the grand master who welcomed you, pampered you and made you feel loved... He had become a monster.

Kuai Liang reached out to you, telling you that he would form another clan. "-Come with me and Tomas, let's be great... Without bi han and his insanity for power." the pyromancer looked at you expectantly, along with Tomas, who placed his hand on your shoulder, while smiling slightly at you. "-Come with us dear, I promise we will protect you from our brother's wrath, I know he is important to you, it hurts both of us too but..." Vrbada pauses for a while, thinking about the harsh words his older brother he had told him at Liu Kang Temple, hours before. "-But he's not the same anymore..."

You felt butterflies in your stomach, but you made the decision to go with the two - after all, they were yours for many years, you met Kuai Liang first, but your heart was still heavy for Bi Han - The three of you left at dawn, without doing anything, no noise or attracting attention, but you knew there was someone watching you, the air was freezing, and you knew it was sub zero in the distance, but he just had a look... Sad? Disappointment perhaps? Small tears could be seen, but he pushed them away as he watched you walk away from him, the grandmaster would blame everything but you. "-It was Kuai Liang and Tomas' fault... I'm sure... You wouldn't abandon me willingly... Right, my bunny?" Bi Han whispered to himself, trying to contain the discomfort that haunted his chest, returning to his quarters... He wasn't going to give up on you, but for now, he wasn't going to do anything, waiting for the perfect opportunity to take what was his by right... You.

You, Kuai and Tomas met Harumi, and it hurt a little to see your best friend leave you a little aside for being in love with someone else, but you understood that Scorpion would also have to have a love life. You and Tomas kept seeing the couple from afar, while smiling at seeing Liang so in love with her - even naming the new Shiray Ryu clan after her - with that, you and the smoke ninja became closer... A lot closer.

Vrbada started giving you gifts, asking you out, he was courting you little by little, trying to move from just friendship for many years to something more. After all, he always liked you romantically but never had the courage to say something, he asked Kuai Liang and even Harumi for some advice, which motivated him to speak up and confess his feelings for you.

But it was little Hanzo who made everything work out between you two, on one training day you saw him pull your shirt and point at Tomas, saying loudly: "-(Y/N) Tomas likes you! Because Don't you two stay together?" Smoke blushed deeply feeling exposed, but grateful to see your smile at him while you yourself asked him out that night. He was a blushing mess as he stuttered, handing you a bouquet of flowers, he was totally dressed up when he picked you up at home, wearing light colored formal clothes that hugged his muscles.

The night was pleasant, with Tomas trying to say everything he felt, everything he kept close to his chest during years of friendship, he knew that you were still thinking about everything that happened in the lin kuei, but that you needed to move on. "-I always liked you darling... Your smile, the nights you slept between me and Kuai Liang, I was afraid of suffocating you sometimes, you know?" Vrbada smiled amusedly, taking your hands and giving each one a chaste kiss, massaging them with his thumb in circular movements. "-I promise that if you give me a chance, I will be the best partner for you (Y/N)... I know I've been your best friend for years, but, I want to be more, much more, stay with me, let's go try a new life... Together." He looked directly into your eyes, the same eyes that always lit up your day like the bluest sky, as you finally felt the Slav's lips press against yours, the moon illuminated you both and your worries were gone... Even if momentarily.

And this would obviously end on your bed, with Tomas on top of you covering your mouth so you wouldn't make any noise, his cock would plunge slowly and difficultly into your tight pussy, while he moaned hoarsely in your ear. "-Fuck-! Dear, stop squeezing me so hard, you're fucking gripping me... F-Fuck your pussy feels so good on my dick..."

Another thing that surprised you was how submissive Smoke was in bed, always asking 'please' to cum inside or for you to let him cum. He would cry like hell if he got overstimulated, babbling in his mother tongue as he cummed every last drop of cum in you. Vrbada enjoys just seeing your pleasure, watching you ride his face, while moaning his name loudly like a mantra, the poor man is already going to cum and whimper that he needs your pussy on him immediately - it was a pleasant surprise to see your best friend like that - especially how he liked to be praised while fucking you, looking directly at your face, calling him a "good boy" makes him come immediately inside you, while he whimpered and said "fuck" repeatedly with his mind broken with too much pleasure to be the rational ninja he always was.

Kuai Liang will smile at the two of you from afar, wanting to have a celebratory dinner to celebrate his brother's success and your passion - which practically every Shiray Ryu heard through Tomas' groans -, but don't be fooled, from afar, you could feel a cold look and now, cruel, Bi Han, he was furious and now more than ever he was going to take you from his brother's arms as a form of revenge for both of you, because now, the grand master was broken at the sight of the way you gave yourself up to Smoke, he wouldn't show any pity, and he would do whatever it took to make you see your mistake even if it meant killing everyone in his path, and that included everyone, even his own brothers, he would catch you whether you want it or not. But in the present, you were happy to be with Tomas, without knowing the troubled future that Bi Han planned for you...

✧ ENDING 2 - STAY WITH BI HAN

You couldn't believe it when you saw Bi Han come back and quickly change everything in the structures of the Lin Kuei clan, he was ruder, colder, but he tried to be as gentle as possible with you, as he always was and tried. You asked him about Kuai and Tomas, which made the grandmaster wrinkle his nose and say with contempt that they had betrayed him, hadn't followed his orders, and that now it was just the two of you against the world.

You knew that Bi Han was lying, but you felt the need to continue on his side, perhaps, with the false hope of making him see that Liu Kang was not the enemy of the Lin Kuei, that your clan served the earthly plane and I didn't need to dominate him. But, Bi Han was blinded by power, but he still wanted to have you around, he loved you and for years you were and were the only person who was closest to him - he didn't trust anyone like he trusted you, not even Sektor -, however this made you have to swear loyalty to the grand master and abandon your best friends. "-Good choice, I knew you were smarter than them... then lets go and make history my angel. Together, we will bring glory to the clan, and power to ourselves." Bi Han says as he walks in front of you to the Lin Kuei headquarters, while he held you tightly, as if he was afraid of losing you at any moment. "-After this war is over, we should go to my little sanctuary at the top of the mountain and stay there for a few days - just me, you, and nature..." he whispered in your ear, taking you to his room, which would now be yours too.

You never thought that Bi Han saw you as a potential love or partner, but from the way he treated you now - whispering sweet and possessive things in your ear, his big cold hands kneading the flesh of your hips lightly, the warm shower of herbs that he prepared just for you... It was obvious that he had feelings stored up for all the years of your friendship - "-Make yourself comfortable while I prepare everything else..." he soon takes you to the center of his bed , as he did rarely in the times when he was still your friend, he was still your bi han... But, he still loved you, he loved you more than you thought. "-You know that I don't just see you as a friend, right? All these years that were me, you and..." He pauses and a long sigh comes out of his lungs, as he looks at his hands, while He remembered his brothers but pushed away those thoughts of "weakness". "-Anyway... I always saw you as more than a future right-hand man for me, more than a friend, you understand, don't you my dear?" Bi Han kisses your neck, licking the drops of water that were still there. "-Just give yourself to me, let me make you my king/queen, you and I will be great, I promise no one will hurt you..."

Bi Han would be gentle with you, making you as comfortable as possible, even if he saw the worry in your eyes because of Vrbada and Liang, he would just bend down and give kisses to your clit, licking the sensitive expanse of your pussy, making you moan and arch your body for more contact with his skin. "-Yes... Just like that... I always knew you were meant for me... Since the first time we met my brother... I always loved you (Y/N)." With one hand firmly holding the waist, ensuring no slipping occurs during passionate thrusts; another arm around your neck, lightly choking just enough to make those beautiful sounds escape your lips even louder, now giving him perfect control over the pace and depth, fucking your pussy with longing and relief, relief of finally having you. have it just for him. "-Take it all. Show me how much you want my cock... Let's make up for lost time, yes, be my good boy/girl..." He moaned and growled in your ear, as he watched your face closely. "-Look at me when you cum- fuck I love you so much, I swear I'll kill anyone who dares take you from me." the grand master made a point of marking you visibly for everyone to see.

If Tomas and Kuai dare to look for you, Bi Han will show no mercy, he has become increasingly paranoid in fear of losing you and if one of them dares to take you to the shiray ryu he will show all the fury he has saved in years. You will be respected inside and outside the lin kuei, being the partner of the grand master, the second person with more power than sub zero himself.

However, you will live only for him, you will live only with him, not that that is a problem, after all Bi Han makes a point of spoiling you, jewelry, treasures or anything you want is yours... Just one word and he will destroy and rebuild the world just to see you smile, he loves you and is completely obsessed with you... so you will just deal with it.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[andromeda-nova-writing]

A Sticky Situation

Wriothesley x Fem! Reader

Summary: With the sticker count rising higher and higher that week, it has finally reached a point where Wriothesley needed it to slow down for his sanity.

Words: 1,766

AN: I love stickers. I want to join Sigewinne in her bet.

Wriothesely had found what had to be the fifth sticker he had peeled off of his jacket just that morning alone. Not to mention it was the forty-second sticker that week and it was only Thursday morning. Usually, this prank from Sigewinne and the other Melusine wouldn’t bother him too much. It was harmless after all. But Forty-Two Stickers??? All in the same week?

Was it always this many and people were taking them off for him without telling him in pity? No, he would have noticed that if that was the case. It wasn’t like Sigewinne also had more Melusine friends visiting her more than normal. Maybe he really was a bad influence on Sigewinne if her bets had gone this far. Hopefully, that would be the extent of his influence and nothing else.

The one question he couldn’t get out of his mind besides how they were getting so many stickers was, where they were getting so many stickers from. It wasn’t like they got this many stickers sent down here from the overworld or that Sigewinne had the time to make so many stickers. And he hadn’t seen many of Sigewinne’s friends come to the Fortress of Meropide that week. It had to be Sigewinne who was currently winning that bet.

None of it made sense at this point. And what didn’t make even more sense was that he just found a sixth sticker on his boot. Maybe it was time to at least slow her pranks down. He wouldn’t stop them but this was starting to get disruptive. At least make her understand not to sticker on the leather of clothes. It never felt like it cleaned off right. He just hoped by bringing it up the sticker amount would go down instead of jumping it up higher as a challenge.

Making his way out of his office he took a glance around his surroundings. A peak over at the cafeteria had him spotting exactly who he wanted to talk to. Sigewinne was talking to her pharmacist friend from the overworld, a lovely woman who had taken it upon herself to sub in to try and help give Sigewinne a break to join her Melusine friends in the overworld. It made Y/N quite helpful as well if Sigewinne ever requested a set of extra hands as she was more comfortable around the Fortress than anyone else they would send down.

She flipped through a book leaning down just enough to show Sigewinne without causing her to strain her neck. Whatever the two were discussing had caused them to laugh aloud. “Personally, this one is my favorite. Its eyes are bigger than the shark's body."

Yeah, that was different from the normal pharmaceutical talk he never followed along with. It's easy to lose track of everything being referred to in great detail due to its chemical composition. This conversation even a child could follow.

"I take it your lunch went well.” He said making his presence known. 

Y/N closed up the book the two were going through handing it off to Sigewinne before standing straight up. “It did. I brought some muffins I bought down to share. How’s your day going so far your Grace?” She looked at him and smiled.

His eyes followed the book that had been handed off. “It's been okay.” He looked back up at Y/N’s face. “What happened to you thinking calling me that was weird?”

“You’re working at the moment. I can respect the professionalism within it even if it feels weird to say. Sigewinne and I were just finishing up.” She bit her lip holding her smile from getting any bigger.

“Anything you need?” Sigewinne asked making sure that the plain back of the book was facing his line of sight. She counted the stickers she could still see on him. There were 4 left. 5 if the one she placed on his chair made it on him.

“Can you at least not place any stickers on leather?” He bargained.

“Hmmm. I don’t see any on leather.” He must have peeled most of those ones off already. Pity. 

“I’ve counted forty-three this week. At least twenty of them were on leather. I don't care as long as they aren’t on the leather. Takes too long to clean off right.”

Y/N covered her mouth trying not to laugh. “Fourty-three?” Sigewinne had to be in the lead for sure.

Wriothesley frowned. He really didn’t want to have to bring her into this. “And do you want to tell me what medicine the two of you have been going on about that contains a shark with eyes bigger than its body?”

Annnnnnd Caught.

“I should go back to the infirmary. Someone might have shown up by now.” Sigewinne excused herself before she lost what Y/N had come down to give her.

She looked down at a nonexistent watch on her arm. “Oh look at the time. I should go.” She tried to walk away towards the exit only for Wriothesley to grab her arm and pull her back. “I didn’t dismiss you.”

 She turned her head over her shoulder looking back at him. “I’m not working for you today.” “Doesn’t matter. What was the book about?”

“Nothing to worry about. You do see how inappropriate this looks to everyone else. I can practically feel your heartbeat against my back.” “You’ve given me hugs in front of inmates before. We’ll be fine. I’ll let go when you tell me what was in the book.”

"Cause you won a match in the ring. I was high on adrenaline." She rolled her eyes at the memory. "Don't tell me you enjoyed it." She teased. 

"Don't change the subject.

“I’m perfectly on topic. I don’t know what you are so pressed about.”

“Do you understand that anything that comes within the Fortress without my knowledge can be considered contraband?"

Y/N pulled out of his loose grip and began walking towards the infirmary. He followed right behind. "Contraband? You do understand that Sigewinne and I are free people who work and sometimes work here."

"I know that. I asked nicely the first time."

"Nicely? You manhandled me." “I think we are running off of two very different definitions.” He lightly elbowed her side. “I have a feeling you’d enjoy that anyway.”

She rolled her eyes hiding a small laugh that tried to creep into her voice. “Wriothesley.” She attempted to scold him.

“We can unpack all of that on a different day.”

“It would be a short day with nothing to unpack.” She sped up her walk. It was hard to take his flirting seriously when there was still a sticker in his hair. He’d benefit from keeping a mirror on his person if the stickers were becoming a problem.

Upon entering the infirmary, Sigewinne and Ottnit were flipping through the infamous book. Laughing. Plotting when to strike their prank next. The two Melusines were clearly enjoying themselves. 

“Hi, girls.” Y/N greeted them as she and Wriothesley walked down the stairs towards them. “I’ve been assumed of bringing in contraband. May I see the book for a moment?” She held out her hand as Sigewinne passed her the book. “You do know we aren’t inmates here.” Sigewinne frowned at Wriothesley. “Told him that already.” She showed the open book to Wriothesley. “Happy now?”

His mouth dropped in shock. “I trusted you. Have you been the one supplying them?”

“Stickers are cute. I’m just giving my friends a gift. I don’t think that's betraying your trust.”

“Tell that to all the sticky residue on my jacket and boots. It won’t even come off right.” He complained. “Twenty of them on leather. I’m just covered in sticky dust.”

The three of them couldn’t help but finally break out laughing. Y/N invested her money in the right thing if he was to look this cute pouting. He crossed his arms frowning in an attempt to save himself from turning into a dust ball at the rate it was going.

Y/N handed the book back to Sigewinne. “Ottnit could you get me some baby oil and a few cotton balls.”

“Sure.” She went off and bought back the supplies. Sigewinne went off, setting the sticker book down on her table before sitting on a chair watching the faces of the two infirmary guests. 

Y/N took one of the cotton balls and dabbed a bit of the baby oil on it. Ottnit took the bottle of baby oil back. She grabbed one of the sleeves of the jacket and peeled off a sticker he had missed. Wriothesley frowned as she placed the sticker on his nose.

“You are doing a horrible job helping.” He took the sticker off his face and crumbled it up in his hand.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “My grandpa was a leather worker. He told me if there was any sticky residue on any leather, take some baby oil and rub it over it with a cotton ball.” She said as she cleaned off the sleeve of the jacket. She handed the used cotton ball to Ottnit before taking a clean one. “Dry it off with another cotton ball and then it's good as new.” 

Wriothesley looked over the sleeve. It was a lot better than his attempts. He sighed. “This doesn’t mean you can keep placing stickers on my jacket or boots,” he told Sigewinne and Ottnit. They were going to keep doing it anyway.

“Nothing to be angry about now.” Y/N dropped the sleeve of the jacket and handed the cotton ball to Ottnit. Ottnit went and threw away the used ones before putting up the baby oil.

“I wasn’t angry.”

“Good cause I’m going to keep giving them stickers.” She reached up pulled a sticker out of hair and placed that one on his nose as well. “I think they look good on you Ri.”

He rolled his eyes before repeating his action from before. “I’m not sure if you know the meaning of help.”

Y/N laughed. “I really need to get back to the surface. This lunch break has been going on a little long. I’ll see you later.” She turned around saying her goodbyes to Sigewinne and Ottnit before leaving the infirmary.

Wriothesley hadn’t even noticed how his eyes hadn’t left her till she was out of sight.

Ottnit sighed shaking her head. “You were right.”

Sigewinne smiled knowing she just won herself even more stickers. “When do you plan on asking her out?”

His head turned over to her. “Forty-five stickers. You get no say in this right now.”

[hard-core-super-star]

if you're weak, come to me [wandanat]

pairing: top!natasha romanoff x bottom!wanda maximoff

summary: wanda gets injured during a mission and natasha is TOTALLY fine with that (not). they seek each other's comfort in the only way they know how.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT -> porn with so many feelings and a dash of plot; mentions of dom/sub dynamics; natasha has so many feelings and no way of verbalizing them; wanda's brattiness is implied; fingering {wanda receiving}; flirty banter; begging; teasing; so many kisses; non-fatal injuries; mentions of blood; not mentioned but this takes place somewhere between age of ultron and civil war

wordcount: 3.6k

a/n: so...this week has been a LOT, i have many thoughts but they're all scattered and filled with rage so i'll save them for another time. the U.S election results have left me feeling both incredibly hopeless and numb and to counteract the heaviness of the moment, i decided to finish this fic instead of spiraling or doomscrolling. easier said than done but it's fine. thank you so much to the lovely person who commissioned this, i had a great time writing for this paring. i still don't feel super confident about my characterization of natasha but it's getting there 😅 anyway, enough rambling, i'm sending you guys all my love and support, my askbox is always open <3

* * * * * * *

No one said being an Avenger was easy.

Outside of the long hours, and the possibility of the world ending every other day, there were the unmeasurable amounts of guilt and regret and worry that seemed to plague each and every one of them. They could probably keep a whole building of therapists employed with the amount of trauma they carried.

Everyone at the compound was well aware of their personal situations, but no two felt it as strongly as Natasha and Wanda. There was no denying how well they worked together, how easy their chemistry was, the way they knew exactly what to do to stop each other from spiraling when they needed it most.

Unfortunately, there were moments where their worries clashed together and left them feeling worse than usual.

Moments like today.

Wanda had been chosen to go on a mission without Natasha and the widow had managed to threaten just about everyone she could think of until she was able to go with her girlfriend.

It all would have been fine had the witch not been incredibly annoyed by what she felt to be an overreaction. Even that would have been fine if they hadn't ended up going on the mission while they were still upset with each other.

They weren't mad enough to not worry about each other, but they still chose to go separate ways and focus on getting different things done. Something that would have been fine had Wanda not been ambushed by far too many enemy agents at once.

Steve had been the closest one to the witch and had managed to get there before things turned too sour. Unfortunately, that had been enough to make the Widow spiral. She'd heard her girlfriend request backup in that shaky voice that gave away her fear and she'd been unable to do anything about it.

If Steve had taken any longer to get to Wanda...she didn't want to think about what could have happened. She couldn't think about it.

And yet it was the only thing on her mind on the way home.

The mission had been successful, but she still felt like a failure. Like somehow, despite how inaccurate of an assessment it was, it had all been her fault. If she hadn't allowed her ego to get the better of her, she would have been there. She would have been able to help her girlfriend before she got hurt.

The witch wasn't mortally wounded in any way, but that didn't matter to her.

Wanda, for her part, felt fine. Sure, she was sore and in pain and bleeding, but she was an Avenger, getting hurt came with the territory.

It became obvious to her that her girlfriend didn't feel the same way as her when the redhead decided to ignore her on the way home. The Quinjet was small, and yet the distance between them felt massive.

It wasn't like her to sneak into people's minds without permission, but this was different. This was Natasha, and her concern for her outweighed most of her guilt around using her powers around her.

Maybe it was a bad idea, but she did it anyway, and it allowed her to see the pain her girlfriend was carrying on her shoulders. It pained her to know Natasha was blaming herself. That she didn't believe she was worth all the love the younger woman had for her.

There wasn't an easy solution to that kind of guilt, but Wanda would be dammed if she allowed her girlfriend to continue to suffer in silence.

The second they landed back at the Compound, Natasha made her way to the witch's side. There was an unreadable expression on her face as she looked her lover over and she silently extended her hand out for her.

Wanda wasted no time in accepting her help.

They made their way to their shared room, holding onto each other a little tighter than necessary. Neither of them commented on it, though, they needed the physical contact more than they were willing to admit out loud.

The silence between them bordered on awkward, but they didn't even attempt to break it. They needed to have a long conversation and it needed to happen away from prying eyes and ears.

After a tense walk, they managed to make it inside their room, and Natasha instantly set the younger woman down on the bed. "Do you need to change your bandages?"

The mention of the badly wrapped bandages made Wanda chuckle despite herself. She wasn't sure whose idea it was to go on a mission without Dr. Banner who, despite how awkward he could be about it, always did a great job at patching them up when they were hurt. Sure, it wasn't his area of expertise, but he was much better at it than Steve.

"No, I'm okay," she replied, not aware of the effect her words were going to have on her girlfriend.

The Widow let out a loud scoff. "Oh, you're okay? You were stabbed and shot at but you're okay?"

"'Tasha-"

"Don't." Her tone left no room for arguing. "You're hurt, I'm allowed to be pissed off about it."

"I never said you couldn't be upset," Wanda muttered in response. "But that doesn't change the fact that I'm fine."

It was a shitty argument, but it was the best she could do given the circumstance. There was no way to win out over Natasha's stubbornness, so the only thing she could do was hope her words would eventually get through to her. That seeing her so sure that everything was fine would bring her out of the spiral she was stuck in.

The only response the Widow gave was a long sigh, her eyes betraying the true weight of her feelings.

Her hand reached out before she could stop it, and Wanda met her halfway, leaning into her touch with a small smile.

Natasha's fingers trailed across the witch's jawline as her eyes took in every little scrape that painted her delicate features. A part of her knew  she was overreacting. That they're safe and sound and Wanda's injuries will heal in no time.

And yet, it was impossible to stop desperation from building within her. The worries that threatened to swallow her whole if she allowed herself to think about things too much.

"'Tasha." Wanda's voice was barely above a whisper as she tried to get through to her lover one more time. "I'm okay."

"You were hurt."

"I've been through worse."

The words were meant to be reassuring, but they had the opposite effect. If anything, they made Natasha feel more helpless. Like despite all her skills, all her knowledge, all her training, she'll never be able to keep her lover safe.

She'll never be enough.

"Stop that, you're more than enough."

Her eyebrow raised involuntarily in response. "Get out of my mind, little witch."

"Hey! It's not my fault your thoughts are so loud."

Despite the heaviness that still lingered within her, a chuckle managed to escape past her lips. In an instant, she leaned forward to press a quick kiss to Wanda's pouting lips.

It amazed her how soft the witch could be after all the pain and violence she grew up in.

More than that, it amazed her how quickly her mood was able to shift when she was with the younger woman. How easy it was for her fears to disappear when they were together.

A soft smile was written across her features when she pulled away from her lover, her eyes a mirror that reflected the affection that was clear in the witch's eyes.

"Let me fix you up, detka." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but there was no denying the weight behind her words. "I promise I'll be quick."

Wanda couldn't help but shift nervously in response. It wasn't like she didn't trust Natasha, of course she trusted the redhead, but she knew how she could get. How easy it was for her to get caught up seeing monsters instead of shadows.

"I...are you sure? My bandages should be okay for a few hours."

"Not with the way Steve wrapped them," Natasha replied with a hint of humor in her tone.

The humor wasn't enough to mask her worry, and yet Wanda felt herself relaxing a little. If it helped her girlfriend feel better, she had no complaints about allowing her to clean her wounds up a little.

"Okay."

It was a single word that conveyed the trust she held in the redhead.

Wanda shifted back on the bed until she was laying down with her head resting on their pillows. She'd been in this position many times before, but this was different. There was an edge of vulnerability that clung to the air between them, a need for reassurance that neither of them could verbalize.

Natasha moved closer, not quite settling between the witch's legs, simply coming close enough to reach for her shirt. Her hands shook slightly as she lifted her girlfriend's shirt, her eyes taking in every inch of smooth skin that was revealed to her. Her heart ached in her chest as she examined each and every one of the cuts and bruises that littered her torso.

"I promise I'm okay," Wanda whispered, noticing her girlfriend's hesitation.

"I believe you."

Still, her head ducked down until her lips met the skin that had been revealed to her.

The gasp that escaped past the younger woman's lips made her smile. She still didn't feel completely okay but the helplessness that had settled in her chest was slowly easing away.

Her lips traced every inch of battered skin they could reach, her hands pushing the fabric up and over Wanda's head. With her shirt out of the way, she was able to fully look over the  bandages wrapped around her girlfriend's injuries. They didn't look as bad as she had expected them to and she subconciously let out a sigh of relief.

It didn't matter how many times she was reassured that the younger woman was fine, she needed to see it with her own eyes. To realize she wasn't bleeding out, there was no bullet lodged inside her, no sharp knife sticking out of her. She was fine.

She was safe.

And she was already arching her back in the way that made the Widow lose all of her control.

It wasn't about the pleasure, though. They both knew that. It was about comfort.

About being there for each other in the only way that was able cut through their anxieties. Maybe it was wrong to have to rely on the physical to get rid of the mental strain they were always under, but it made sense to them. More than that, it worked.

Because as much as they trusted and loved each other, being vulnerable wasn't something that came easy to them. Especially not after a mission when their fight or flight insticts were still on.

"I'm here," Natasha mumbled, shifting until she was hovering over her girlfriend. "I'm right here, Wands."

The words brought a beautiful smile to the witch's face. "I know...but you're still too far."

Wanda managed to work up enough courage to wrap her arms around Natasha's neck. She tried to keep her grip loose, just in case the Widow wasn't ready for too much physical contact.

"Patience," she replied. "I'm in the middle of something here. I still haven't cleaned you up."

The witch couldn't help but roll her eyes at that. The last thing on her mind right was her injuries. She felt fine. More than that, she felt weirdly needy and she needed her girlfriend's lips in a completely different spot.

She knew complaining probably wouldn't get her very far, but she couldn't help it. Maybe some light playfulness would help Natasha feel better.

"Come on, 'Tasha, that can wait. I need you right now."

The redhead paused for a second, green eyes focused intently on Wanda's face. She thought things over for a second, silently analyzing the situation in front of her. Her girlfriend seemed fine. All that seemed to linger were her wounds but not the pain they had initially brought.

It was irresponsible, she knew that much, but how was she supposed to deny her beautiful lover?

"How are you always so needy?" She replied, her soft smile growing just a tad bit teasing. "Don't tell me I've spoiled you too much."

"Maybe you have." Wanda shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"I beg to differ."

Natasha leaned down to capture the witch's lips again. This time, there was a little less softness to the contact and a little more urgency. And a lot of unrestrained desperation neither of them knew what to do with.

One kiss turned into two which turned into Wanda digging her nails into Natasha's shoulders while her hips bucked involuntarily. The Widow's thigh was too far to provide the witch with any real friction and yet it only made everything feel ten times more intense. An intensity that always seemed to catch up to them when they were together in such a way.

"Nat..." Wanda groaned, head tilting back in both pleasure and desperation.

"I know." Despite the teasing edge to her response, there was nothing but affection in her tone. Nothing but devotion for her lover. "What did I say about patience?"

One of Natasha's hands made its way between their bodies, her fingers tracing a path she knew by memory. The witch didn't seem to be in the mood for much teasing but she couldn't help it. There was something so exciting about turning her girlfriend into a desperate mess.

She knew, on some level, where it came from. That Wanda needed to be taken care of just as badly as she needed to be in control. They were on opposite ends of the same spectrum.

The witch arched her back in an attempt to push her chest further into Natasha's hand, a quiet moan leaving her lips as she teased her hardned nipples. "Stop teasing."

"I've barely started, detka. Don't tell me you already can't handle it?"

"You're so mean."

"You like it."

Wanda didn't have any time to refute that claim because right when she opened her mouth to speak, the redhead decided to finally give in to what her body needed.

"I oh-" The witch's body shuddered as Natasha's hand moved down, slidding into her tight pants and cupping her wet heat. The fabric of her underwear was still in the way, but neither of them cared too much about the obstruction.

Matching moans left their lips as the Widow found the wet spot staining the younger woman's underwear, her fingers moving over the soaked fabric with renowed purpose.

"What was that?" Natasha teased. "Were you going to say something?"

Her girlfriend's tone had Wanda clenching around pure air, her hips bucking involuntarily in search of more friction. "N-no."

"Are you sure? I can stop if you need me to."

"Fuck no. Don't stop...please."

"Good girl."

The praise sent shivers down Wanda's spine and effectively turned all her thoughts to pure mush. It should have been embarrassing how quickly she fell apart for her lover and yet all she could feel was pleasure. And maybe a little pride at how fast she managed to make Natasha give in to what she wanted.

That sort of pride was mutual, though, and it caused desire to thrum in their veins. Desire for what? That wasn't as easy to figure out. Thankfully, they had nothing but time to try.

Natasha quickly grew tired of teasing her girlfriend. Not because she didn't want to keep doing it (she really really did), but because she could tell she needed more. And after the day they'd had, she wasn't sure she'd be able to deny the witch anything.

Her fingers slid inside Wanda's ruined underwear, relishing the loud gasp that escaped the younger woman when she brushed against her clit. The witch was always sensitive, and today was no exception. It made these kinds of moments all the more exciting for her.

"Oh, fuck." Wanda's voice came out more like a whine than anything else. "Please."

"Please what?" She responded, leaning down to trail kisses down the witch's jawline. "Use your words like a good girl."

The only response she could form for a few seconds was another whine. Natasha always knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say, to help her sink down into that fuzzy, submissive headspace she was slowly getting used to. They hadn't done much exploring, too busy with never-ending missions to safely allow the witch to slip, but the safe experimentation they'd done had taught them both more than enough.

Mainly, it taught them how much they both thrive in that type of scenario. How much they depend on each other, on and off the battlefield.

"Don't stop," Wanda begged, feeling her hesitation fade away with every second that went by. "Touch me, fuck me, anything, please."

If Natasha was in a crueler mood, she would have taken her time to tease the younger woman. To play with her until she was a writhing, whimpering mess beneath her.

As fun as that sounded, she wasn't in the mood for that today. She wanted to let go. To help Wanda let go until all that was left was the two of them, locked together, in the sanctuary of their room.

"That's my girl." Her words were accompanied by the movement of her fingers. They slid through Wanda's slick folds before slowly easing in to her cunt. "Fuck, you're soaked for me, detka."

The witch was more than wet enough to take Natasha's fingers but the Widow still took her time, working two fingers inside and diligently watching her lover's face contort with pleasure. The way her walls fluttered around her was intoxicating, drawing the digits in deeper and practically begging her to stay buried inside her.

She moved slowly. Not because she wanted to tease but because she wanted to draw out the sensations. To overwhelm Wanda with the devotion she couldn't properly express most days.

To be fair, it didn't seem like the younger woman minded. They were both broken, albeit in different ways, and they seemed to understand eachother without words. It was the most comforting thing either of them had ever known.

But God, she was so afraid of losing this. Of losing the one good thing she had. The one person who didn't see her as the Black Widow or a S.H.I.E.L.D. product. To Wanda, she was simply 'Tasha and it meant far more to her than anything else.

It wasn't hard for Wanda to realize the change in her girlfriend's thoughts. The sudden change in her breathing, the glosiness that overtook her eyes. She knew exactly what it meant and she knew she had to do something before the redhead started drowning in her thoughts.

So, she did the only thing she could think of right now. Mainly because thinking was getting difficult and it wasn't like she could move around too much with the Widow's fingers buried in her pussy.

Her hands moved to Natasha's face, cuping her cheeks and bringing her closer until their lips met once again. The kiss was a stark contrast to the movements of the redhead's fingers, but neither of them seemed to care.

All they cared about was being together.

Wanda pulled away first, her panting breaths turning into whimpering gasps. The coil in her stomach was about ready to snap, her hips bucking desperately into the readhead's hand. "Nat- I can't, I need-"

"What do you need, detka?" She asked, even though she already knew the answer. She couldn't help it, she loved the way the witch's eyebrows furrowed in frustration when she interrupted her just to tease her.

"Need to cum, please-" Her words turned into a moan when Natasha's thumb found her swollen clit. "Please, can I cum?"

The desperation in her girlfriend's voice made the redhead smile proudly. It was hard to think about her fears when she had the witch like this. Completely and utterly under her spell.

"Of course," she replied, speeding up the thrusts of her fingers in an attempt to bring Wanda even closer to falling apart. "Come on, be a good girl and cum for me."

The witch felt overwhelmed in the best way. All she could think about, all she could feel, was Natasha. Her words, her hands, the pleasure only she was able to bring her. It was all too much yet it felt so good.

Her walls clenched around the Widow's fingers as she lost control of herself, giving in to the pleasure and letting everything else fade away. All it took was a few sharp thrusts of Natasha's fingers before she was moaning her lover's name, her eyes squeezing shut while she rode the waves of pleasure that crashed into her.

The redhead worked her through her orgasm, making sure to slow down a little to avoid overstimulating the younger woman. She leaned down to pepper kisses across each and every inch of Wanda's neck to help ground her a little more.

Neither of them were sure how much time went by before Wanda was able to open her eyes again, but when she finally did, the large, slightly goofy, smile on her face instantly gave away how she was feeling.

Still, Natasha asked anyway.

"You okay?"

"Hmmm, yeah."

The Widow chuckled, her heart practically bursting out of her chest at the sight of Wanda so happy and relaxed. It was a sight that never failed to make her feel better, no matter how shitty her day had been before.

"Good." She placed a few extra kisses across Wanda's face before shifting further down her body. "Because we're not done yet."

Natasha was talking about the remaining injuries she hadn't taken a look at yet but if they got up to other things too...well, she wouldn't complain about that.

[randomthings299]

Can we talk about Elementary for a moment? Because this show is so fucking amazing I can’t. The premise is questionable, to say the least. „We’re gonna make a Sherlock Holmes adaption. But what if John is a woman called Joan and what if she is American? Oh and the whole thing is set in New York.“

Best start for a horrible American washed gender swap romance adaption but nothing could be further from the truth. Usually when the gender of a character is changed from canon it is to push some strange heteronormative romance sub plot but NO not Elementary.

The PLATONIC relationship between Joan and Sherlock is so amazingly done. It is the best portrayal of a QPR (queerplatonic relationship) I have ever seen in media. And even if we don’t take qprs into account we see a rich, deep, trusting friendship full of so much love. Elementary had the guts to use the word love in a platonic way, something other Sherlock Holmes adaptions (I’m looking at you BBC) never dared to do. And this in a show where Holmes and Watson are opposite genders, so the association with romance is done even quicker. Meanwhile, we watch Watson struggle with traditional dating and amatonormativity until she finally finds happiness in her platonic partnership with Sherlock and later as a single mum.

Elementary is also the only adaption I’ve seen that really explores Holmes's addiction. Usually, even in ACD canon, his drug addiction is treated as some personality quirk. An annoying habit but nothing more. But that is not how addiction works. Especially not with hard drugs like morphine and cocaine if we look at Canon or heroin in case of BBC and Elementary. Elementary puts great focus on Sherlock's long, presumably lifelong struggle with addiction and the great strength and effort it takes for him to stay clean. It emphasizes his need for a stable support system and doesn’t downplay addiction like a lot of Sherlock Holmes adaptions do. This is amazing.

Another great thing is the casualness of how queer people are incorporated into the story. They are just there. Their queerness isn’t the focus of their story, it is just part of who they are. Mrs. Hutson is trans but the focus is on the many influential men she has had affairs with. Victims are queer. Suspects are queer. Police are queer. Queer people just exist in this show without making it a big deal.

Even tho it isn't a perfect ACD Holmes adaption especially if we look at Sherlock's character I love this show so much.

[daisyvisions]

I Wanna Be Your Dog - (k.yh)

➺ Pairing: Rockstar!Younghoon x Assistant!Reader

➺ Summary: Your job as an assistant to the band is simple: handle their schedule, and do what they ask you to do. But how far are you willing to help one member out with a certain ask if it means keeping your job?

➺ Word Count: 3.8k

➺ Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), fem!reader, unprotected sex, creampies, edging, male masturbation, guided masturbation, handjobs, slight fingering, riding, lots of making out, groping, sexual fantasies, mutual pining (?), younghoon is down bad for reader (sub!younghoon if you squint), marking, mentions of hookups, pet name used (baby)

➺ A/N: Finally, my birthday fic for Younghoon is up! I had planned to write for rockstar younghoon ever since this tiktok edit came out last year. This was not the original story I had in mind but I hated how the outline was going and decided to save it for another member and use this plot instead. Title is inspired from the song of the same name by Joan Jett & the Blackhearts because the lyrics fit so well with one particular scene of the fic (iykyk). Proofread once, enjoy 😉

➺ Network & Tag: @deoboyznet @snowflakewhispers @winterchimez @aimeecarreros (thank you for introducing me to the song 😈)

For as long as you could remember, you've always wanted to work in the music industry. There was something about that chaotic world that you thought was magical. You were so determined to become a part of that universe you didn't care where you would end up.

And that is how you became the assistant to one of the hottest acts to ever grace the stage.

At first, you were way too excited to be involved in the day-to-day of the band's schedule; you didn't even care if you had to run many blocks just to get the specific brand of coffee they wanted.

But soon enough, the rose-colored lenses you had on would crack. Not only did you have to take care of the band's schedule and be at their beck and call, but you were also in charge of cleaning up their mess.

Which is the reason you ended up sitting through a one-hour phone call with the band's manager as he practically yaps your ear off about the band's lead guitarist.

"Do you know how many NDAs I had to sign just so these groupies would keep their mouths shut about Younghoon?" Jacob exclaims.

"I know, I'm the one who prints and mails those documents for you." You sigh heavily.

"The board is getting pissed off. It's getting too much! He has a sex addiction at this point!"

"Well, it's not like we can make him wear a chastity belt or a purity ring to stop him! You know how he gets." You reply, trying to hold in your frustration from how long this call has been going.

"They are in the process of promoting their next album and going on tour. If Younghoon keeps this up and the press finally catches on, it will not be a good look for us all." Jacob takes a deep breath and pauses for a moment.

"I need you to keep him in line," Jacob says to you with a stern voice.

"What?! How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

"I don't know, you're the assistant. It's your job to take care of those guys. Do something about it or you can say goodbye to your job."

Jacob puts the phone down immediately without even waiting for your reply. You throw your phone to the side, your heart racing as you feel the frustration consuming you, and it's not even eight in the morning.

You can't afford to lose your job. Not after you've worked so hard to get where you are already. And you will definitely not lose your job just because Younghoon can't keep it in his goddamn pants.

No, you're going to do something about this no matter what it takes.

As you insert the spare key in the lock of Younghoon's apartment, you're instantly startled as a figure appears before you. Her disheveled appearance already tells you who or rather, why she's in his apartment. Great, another day of running into a groupie.

"Oh, Lin, isn't it?" You try to give her a smile. You introduce yourself as the band's assistant.

"Oh—hi," she responds, but her eyes were looking elsewhere. "Excuse me, I gotta go, late for… an appointment," she mumbles.

"Of course, it was nice meeting you!" You put on that people-pleasing voice. Lin nods in return before stumbling out the door. You make a mental note to track her address and send her an NDA later in the day.

You walk further into Younghoon's apartment, already listing out in your head the mess you have to clean up later as you quickly scan different areas of the living room. You find him still dead asleep in his bed, probably unaware that his latest conquest has left the building as you walk closer to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Younghoon? You awake?" You gently shake his shoulder. As you continue to wake him up, you're caught by surprise as he grabs your arm and pulls you into his embrace.

"Hey baby, up so early?" His deep morning voice rings in your ear as his face buries into your neck.

You try to keep yourself composed as you wriggle yourself free, but your eyes widen at the sudden realization that doing so was a mistake as you feel something hard digging between your ass.

"Younghoon, I—"

"So eager for round two, huh? Don't worry, baby, I'll let you take the lead this time." He kisses a sensitive spot between your neck and shoulder as his hands start drifting near your hips. Before anything escalates, you pull his hands away and reach behind to flick him in the forehead.

"Younghoon, it's me!" You shout, sitting upright once more and shaking off that fluttering feeling growing inside your stomach.

"Ow. What the— oh. Oh hey!" He smiles at you. "Where's—"

"Already left. Witnessed her walk of shame just as I was going in," you smirk. "I brought you breakfast; better see you outside in ten minutes, alright?" You slap his shoulder to wake him up.

"Alright, alright, I'll get up," he groans as he turns to his side.

"Aw, all this for me? You shouldn't have." Younghoon slings his arm over your shoulder as he watches you set all the food on the counter.

"Just sit down and eat. We need to talk about something." You shrug his arm off.

"To talk… What did I do this time?" He sarcastically replies as he sits across from you.

"It's not what you did this time; it's what you keep on doing, Younghoon." You grab his plate and fill it up with the food on the table.

"Look, Jacob called me this morning, and he's not happy with your—" You pause, trying to come up with a proper way to address the problem.

"With my… what?" Younghoon takes a big bite from his plate, his eyes trained on yours as he waits for you to finish.

"Your sex addiction." You decide to get straight to the point. "You fuck nearly every girl that bats her pretty eyelashes at you or even gives you a decent amount of attention."

"Hey, I can't help myself, you know? This is the rockstar's life, after all." He shrugs as he takes a sip from his glass.

"Yeah, well, if you don't get that controlled and continue thinking with your dick, it's not gonna look good for the press," you reply.

"Since when have we cared about what the press thought?" Younghoon asks with slight irritation in his voice.

"Please, Younghoon, I need you to keep it together just until promotions and the tour are over. My job is on the line here." Your voice starts quivering. Younghoon sees your eyebrows scrunching and the tiny tear forming at the corner of your eye.

Oh, how he wishes he could kiss those worries away right now and keep you close to him. Seeing you like this whenever you're frustrated or upset makes his heart ache with a feeling he can't explain. It's probably because he has a soft spot for you, ever since you started working for them. And if he's the reason that you end up losing your job, he doesn't know how he'll be able to sleep at night.

"Please?" Your tiny voice calls him back to reality as your soft hands hold one of his. And how could he ever say no to you?

"Alright," Younghoon sighs out. "I'll do it. But it's not gonna look pretty." You chuckle at his response.

"I promise you can go back to doing whatever after the promotions. Deal?" You gently squeeze his hand for reassurance. Younghoon places his other hand on top of yours and squeezes in return.

"You got it, boss."

Much to your surprise, Younghoon does a fairly good job at keeping his word. At first, it was a bit difficult, but he somehow managed to pull through.

He couldn't forget that one time he was almost about to fuck the girl lying on his bed until he suddenly remembered your face and how upset you would've been if you found out what he was doing. He couldn't bear the thought of disappointing you, so he just came up with a lousy excuse for the groupie to leave and fisted himself later in the night until he was satisfied enough.

And since then, that's what he had been doing to get by. He was either fucking his hand or fleshlight while imagining all the different one-night stands he had in the past. But as the days went by, it was getting harder for him to reach that sweet release. Not even watching porn would get him off the way it did before.

He needed to touch and be touched, a pair of lips kissing him everywhere, and moans of pleasure ringing in his ear… he couldn't wait till the tour was over until he could finally ravish someone and forget their name the next day. Sounds like a shitty way to live but hey, this is the kind of life he chose for himself.

Just two more months, Younghoon, what's the worst that can happen?

Sweat starts to form on Younghoon's forehead as he vigorously pumps his throbbing length. He had been trying to get off for a while now, but it seems nothing has been working. This was the worst case of blue balls he has ever had, and if he doesn't cum any second now, he might go insane.

Younghoon starts to dig deep into his memories of past hookups to see if there was one moment he can use to get himself off. There was one memory that seemed to pop into his mind, but not any of the hookups he had remembered. No, it was a memory of you. The day you came into the apartment to talk to him about his problem.

He recalls the smell of your perfume when he buried his face into your neck, the way your ass rubbed against his morning wood accidentally, and how soft your hands were when you held his hand during breakfast.

His cock throbbed in his hand remembering those small moments, playing an imaginary scenario in his mind wherein you didn't stop his hands from traveling to your hips. How he would've pressed himself into you further and continued kissing your neck. How his hands would’ve groped your breasts tenderly as he whispered filth into your ear and you would’ve moan his name in response.

"So pretty…" he murmurs to himself as he bucks his hips up, thinking how beautiful and kind you've always been to him even if he tends to be an asshole at times.

He moans at the thought of how soft your lips would feel against his own, remembering the time you drunkenly kissed him on the cheek during that one after-party a few days ago. He had to quickly turn away from you to hide his cheeks turning pink.

God, he knows his abstinence from sex has gotten so bad to the point that even the smallest gestures from you are enough to send the blood in his veins right down to his cock. He's never been this hard in his life, and he can't tell anymore if it's because he's blue-balled or because he's thinking about you.

Either way, Younghoon was all up in his head that he didn't even hear his front door being unlocked as you let yourself in.

Your visit to Younghoon's tonight was unplanned. He had forgotten his lucky leather jacket in the studio a week ago, and you took it upon yourself to get it dry-cleaned for him.

As soon as you got the call from the dry cleaners, you thought it would be nice to drop by his place and surprise him with his newly cleaned jacket and bring his favorite food for a late night snack. After all, you wanted to show him how grateful you were for keeping his word.

"Younghoon?" You call out his name. You knew he was home after spotting his keys and wallet on the console table. You try to call his name again but still no response. He must be asleep. I should go check on him, you think to yourself.

Younghoon? He hears your sweet voice ringing in his ear. God, he must be down so bad if he can start hearing you call out his name, as if you're right close by. He can already feel himself closer to the edge as he hears his name once again, pumping himself to the point of no return until his door suddenly swings open.

"Younghoon, I— Oh my god!"

"Shit!"

You both catch each other by surprise.

You tried to look elsewhere, but the image of Younghoon jerking himself off is now burned into your memory, and you don't know what to do. Younghoon, on the other hand, whimpers from the loss of his orgasm.

Had you been delayed by a second or two, he would've released his load onto his stomach, relieving himself of stress. But now, he's on the verge of crying as he feels himself getting incredibly pent up.

"I'm so sorry, I'll just go—" You turn around quickly.

"No, wait!" Younghoon's voice stops you from closing the door. You couldn't help but turn around and face him once more. He looked like he was in pain, his eyes becoming watery as he deeply breathes in and out.

"Help me…" He cries out to you.

"W-what?" Your eyes widen. He can't be serious, right?

"Please! I can't— been trying. I can't do it." A tear falls down his pale cheek.

"Please, it hurts so bad…" He whimpers once again.

"Younghoon, I can't—"

"Please! Just this once. We'll never speak of it again—" He pleads like his life depends on it. And with the way he's looking at you like you're the only one that can help him get out of this sticky situation, how could you say no to him?

"A-alright." Your feet move towards him even before you replied, your body already deciding for you on what you need to do next.

You sit beside him, placing your hand on his thigh as you glance over his hand gripping his cock. You feel your core pulsate at his pink tip peeking out from his fist. But you try your best to completely ignore whatever intrusive thought you have and place your hand on top of his, gently holding it as you look into his eyes.

"Just this once, okay?" You hover above his cock enough for your spit to fall onto the tip and move his hand slowly up and down as you guide him through his orgasm.

This wouldn't be the first time you've seen his cock. The first two times were by pure accident and from afar too. But nothing could've prepared you from seeing his member up close.

The way the veins are protruding from how rock hard he is at the moment, wondering what it must feel like to fill you up to the hilt. You try to think of anything deemed unsexy as you stare at his manhood, but that ends up failing as you start to feel your underwear slowly getting wet by the second.

While you're too caught up in your own thoughts, Younghoon couldn't help but stare at the way you looked at his cock, all slack-jawed and dreamy-eyed. It was like you wanted to do more than guide him, like you were ready to devour him any moment from now. As if a dark cloud of lust is slowly taking over you right before his very own eyes. And that was turning him on a lot.

He subconsciously reaches out for you with his free hand, his fingers holding onto the back of your neck as he pulls you in for a kiss. Your lips are even sweeter than he had imagined, making his heart beat so fast from how soft they feel on his own. Younghoon knows this moment won't last forever, so he decides to just enjoy it while it lasts.

You instantly moan from the feeling of his lips on yours, holding his wrist as you lean forward to press yourself against him. You pull his hand away from his cock and replace it with yours instead, the softness of your palm wrapped around his length making him hiss in pleasure. You start to grip him harder, controlling the pace of your hand jerking him off.

Younghoon groans into your mouth as he slips his tongue inside. His hands grabbing onto your hips before pulling you closer to him to straddle his lap. You continue to jerk him off as his hands start caressing the sides of your body.

"Please…" he whines into your mouth.

"Tell me what you need, Younghoon—" You kiss his cheek before moving down to his neck.

"Wanna touch you— fuck— Can I touch you? Please let me touch you." His eyebrows knit in pleasure as your lips suck a particularly sensitive part of his throat.

Too busy with lightly sucking on his skin, you grab one of his hands and guide him to the front button of your pants, signaling him to remove the article of clothing from you for better access. He wastes no time helping you out of your jeans and having you back on his lap.

His fingers slowly sliding beneath your underwear, groaning at the sensation of how wet your folds are. He's honestly amazed at how you're able to get this wet without being touched; it motivates him to slide his fingers between before finally circling around your sensitive bud.

You let out a soft whine as you feel your knees turn into jelly. All you could think about right now is to sink yourself down onto his member and ride him into the sunset. Somehow it was like he could read your mind as you feel his hand pull your underwear to the side and the other pull you by the hip to align your entrance right above his tip.

"This okay?" You look down at him.

"Y-yeah, more than okay." He stutters.

"C'mere." You lean down to kiss him, slowly letting yourself sink down to the base of his cock.

Both of you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding until you finally sat on his lap. The feeling of Younghoon being fully sheathed inside you already has you seeing stars, and you haven't even moved yet. He swallows your moans as he starts bucking his hips up, holding you in a tight embrace as he fucks himself into your tight hole.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" He mumbles as he pulls his lips away from yours to get a good look at your face.

The way he looked at you as if you had a halo around you was making the butterflies in your stomach flutter like crazy. You knew the effect he had on you, especially when he would randomly flirt with you. But for some reason, the effect of his words felt different.

It was like he was confessing something he had locked up inside of him for a long time, making you blush like an idiot. Your eyebrows knit in pleasure as his thrusts start to become faster. Your walls are gripping him like a vice; he knows he's bound to reach his peak anytime soon.

"Let go for me, Younghoon, you can do it." You whisper in his ear.

As soon as you say these words, a sudden burst of warmth blooms inside you. His hips relax onto the mattress as he comes down from his high, but his hands guide your hips up and down his cock, helping you reach your own release.

He must've been so pent up, you think to yourself as you feel him still incredibly hard inside you. The tip of his manhood nudges that sweet spot deep inside you so good you feel yourself nearly falling over the edge.

"K-keep going, baby—" He breathes out. "Use me."

You take control of your own movement and bounce on him like there's no tomorrow. Your fingernails raking the sensitive skin on his chest as you chase your own high. Younghoon can feel himself reaching his own high too the more you keep this pace up.

Everything about this moment was making him absolutely dizzy. Your walls practically choke holding his dick, his first load already dripping out of you and coating his balls, and the way the squelching sounds echo in the room as you use him for your own pleasure?

He will never look at you the same way ever again. You've officially ruined him for anyone else after this.

"Younghoon, I'm gonna—"

"C'mon baby, cum on me. Fuck— make me yours." He mumbles as he feels close to the edge with you.

After a few more bounces, the rope inside you finally snaps, making you cum so hard you feel like you're going to faint. Younghoon's second release follows right after yours, but this time his load is more than the first. You both know for sure that as soon as he pulls out, a waterfall of your mixed juices is bound to rush out of your hole. So you just decide to keep him close longer as you both try to catch your breath.

You lay your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his breathing pattern slowly regulating as he rubs his hand up and down your back. You both bask in the silence a little longer, secretly savoring the moment before you have to part ways.

"Younghoon?" You lift your head to look up at him. He hums in response.

"If— if ever you need help with this at a different time…" You pause for a moment. "I'd be happy to volunteer." You feel your cheeks burn up at the thought of doing this with Younghoon again.

"Yeah? You wanna help me out?" His eyes widen, his heart beating faster again knowing this wouldn't be the last intimate moment with you.

"Yeah, just as long as you sign an NDA about it." You jokingly reply. He chuckles and kisses your forehead.

"Well, get ready to print a lot of those—" He grabs your ass and gives it a good slap, making you yelp in surprise.

"—because you have a lot of catching up to do."

[mt-oe]

Hey girl I’m not sure if you’re taking requests or not but I’m feeling a lil toxic so I’d like to request something in which the reader was stuck in a situationship with Mizu but ended it, much to Mizu’s (toxic ass) surprise but maybe Mizu does miss her and reach out and tells her she wants to give a relationship a chance? Can be nsfw if you’re comfortable with that. Should you accept this request thank you and yay 🩷 and if not then that’s okay and I hope you have an amazing day 🫶

𝐈𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐬—modern mizu

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dear!

Thank you so much for requesting this! I love this idea so much, so much so that I truly hope I actually cooked.

Hope you enjoy! Mwa mwa :*

warning/s: not proofread, smut (mdni!), sub mizu, masturbation, oral, angst, she/her for mizu, implied afab reader

note/s: I'm not trying to antagonize the characters, by the way except for mikio fuck that bitch

"‘𝐻𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑦 𝑡𝘩𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑝𝑒 𝑏𝑦 𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑒𝑎’ 𝘩𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑖𝑑 ‘𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑠𝑘𝑦 𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑢𝑠: 𝑤𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑔𝑜 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑦: 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑟𝑢𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝘩𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑟𝑢𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝘩𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑠’. 𝑆𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝘩𝑒 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑜𝑢𝑔𝘩𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑖𝑛𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠."

Life was many things. It could be the sudden burst of energy you got after a single cup of coffee, the feeling of being approached by the stray cat you've always tried to pet, and maybe even the feeling of finally getting yourself a sweet little treat. It could be the feeling of finding something you actually like after feeling empty, numb, and directionless for most of your life, or maybe even the feeling finally resting from being useful for most of your life.

However, it isn't always the wonderful feeling of fulfillment. Sometimes, you spiral down into a empty void filled, desperately trying to claw yourself out. It gnaws at you, devours your hopelessness and spits you into the cruel world.

One moment, you can't feel your face. Another moment, god, you can't fucking feel your face.

Life was a coin.

A head and a tail.

An unturned card.

A switch.

But to you, like the hopeless fool you are, it was the woman standing inside the gymnasium, laughing at whatever her—err...senior? Was this dude even a student? Whatever the fuck he was—was saying. You knew the look she was giving him, eyelashes fluttering and the small smile she gave when she was giving her full attention. Your life was interested in him. She was interested in him.

Fuck.

"It's fine. She's probably just having a friendly conversation," you muttered quietly to yourself, a desperate prayer to try and calm yourself down. She hasn't said anything yet anyway. Who were you to be jealous?

Sure, you kissed a few times, with and without tongue, but that didn't mean anything yet, right?

Okaaaaay. Maybe you went further than kissing, like y'know, holding hands and shit like that.

Speaking of her hands, you fucking love her hands.

How rough and calloused it was, how long it was. Every time she touched you, fluttering was an understatement to what the butterflies in your stomach were doing. You love her hands so much, you memorized every callous, every scar, every mole. The rough feel already engraved in your body's memory. How it felt in your hand, on your shoulder, on your cheeks, on your hips, in your pussy. You memorized it down to its length.

But that didn't mean anything, right?

Gathering the courage, you slowly approached her. Each step felt heavier than the last, the echo of your heartbeat ringing in your ears every time your feet made contact with the floor. The lump forming in your throat wouldn't go away no matter how many times you swallowed. Your mind was spinning, like the world was shrinking and it was just you...her and whoever the fuck this man was.

It wasn't like he was that great, right? I mean, come on, he looks old enough to be your dad or uncle or something. Surely, Mizu wouldn't like someone so geriatric-looking, right? And that look of interest she's giving, it's probably just because she doesn't want to seem uninterested. They're probably just having a friendly conversation about sword practice...right?

You weren't crazy. There was no way you were. Not over someone who wasn't yours. It wasn't your fault your heart skipped a beat when she was around. No, you weren't crazy.

You lost count of the amount of prayers you recited in your mind, praying to every deity for this to be some sort of sick joke.

'Please...'

Time slowed down as her hands made its way to the man's cheek. Her eyes were warm and loving, contrasting her cool blue irises. Contrasting the cold stare she gave when she looked at you.

'...whoever is out there..'

Her eyes making contact with yours for a brief moment, the cold stare returning before melting as her focus flickered back to his. Mizu tilted her head slightly, leaning closer to the man, lips slightly parted. Disgust ran through your throat, piling up like bile wanting to shoot up your esophagus, as he wrapped his arms around her. Fuck get away from her please. I beg you..

'...please.'

The moment their lips made contact, you stopped walking. Your world stopped spinning for a moment. An indescribable feeling of emptiness clawed its way inside you, settling there like a black hole. You just stood there, watching them as they pulled each other closer, hands on each other. The hands you love so much on someone else.

Was this still a friendly conversation?

"𝐻𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑑 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑟𝑠٫ 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑡٫ 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑠𝘩𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠٫ 𝑠𝑜 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑔𝘩𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑦 𝘩𝑎𝑑 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡٫ 𝑜𝑛 𝑎 𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑡. 𝐼𝑛 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑦٫ 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑔𝑜٫ 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑟𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑐 𝑝𝑎𝑛-𝑝𝑖𝑝𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑢𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑٫ 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑠. 𝑇𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝘩𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑚 𝑡𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑡𝘩𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒٫ 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑠’-𝑤𝑎𝑥 𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑠𝑒٫ 𝑎𝑛𝑑٫ 𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝘩𝑒 𝘩𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑚٫ 𝘩𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑒𝑥𝑒𝑑 𝑒𝑎𝑐𝘩 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑎 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑣𝑒٫ 𝑠𝑜 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑦 𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑏𝑖𝑟𝑑’𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠."

Mikio.

Not long after, you found out that the man's name was Mikio. He was Mizu's senior, held back a year after getting in trouble with the department head. They both met thanks to her mother but coincidentally had been members of the same team.

She didn't like him at first. However, as days passed by, he slowly grew on her. Her heart started warming up to him, beating for him.

While yours was beating for her.

Everyday.

While you were still talking, kissing, fucking, they had been sharing affectionate glances at each other, genuine affection like ones you always wished for. They were probably acting all lovey-dovey while you remained there...hoping and oblivious. A gullible stupid piece of shit.

Did she feel the same butterflies as you did when he walked in the same room as her? Did she memorize his hands the same way you memorized hers? Could she read his expressions the same way you read her one-hundred-and-one glares?

The same one she was giving you right now.

You stood frozen in your spot, hand gripping your phone, her 'it wasn't that serious' message flashed on the screen. What the hell were you thinking? Coming here to confront her and all that. What did you think was going to happen? That she'll magically lose interest in him?

No, that wasn't going to happen.

Not when she was so head over heels for him.

Your eyes stared as the person of your affection stood at the other end of the hall. God she was still so beautiful—tall, well-built, and so fucking pretty. Even when her sharp eyes were glaring at you, she was still the prettiest person on this earth.

Her new lover couldn't even amount to how majestic she looked, and yet, he somehow beat you to her heart.

Resignation weighed down on you like the ten ton truck, running you over, going 120 miles per hour. Your throat tightened up as tears threatened to form at the corner of your eyes. The courage you had built up, thinking you would be able to at least talk to her, was now burned down.

Before she could even turn to face you, your feet were already carrying you down the hall. A coward, that's what you are. You could barely even face her, what made you think you could do this?

'Fuck. That was so embarrassing,' your bitter thoughts told you, hot tears dripping down from your eyes. You continued down the hall, looking for the emptiest comfort room available to sob like a pathetic fucking loser. A part of you still refused to believe that all of this was true, but another part of you could feel itself dying. The least you could do for yourself is to save face and move on.

Fuck. That was so embarrassing.

"𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑛٫ 𝐼𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑢𝑠٫ 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝘩𝑖𝑚٫ 𝑎𝑛𝑑٫ 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝘩𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝘩𝑖𝑚٫ 𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑔𝘩𝑡 𝑙𝑎𝑢𝑔𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑤 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑧𝑒٫ 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑠’-𝑤𝑎𝑥 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑢𝑚𝑏٫ 𝑎𝑛𝑑٫ 𝑖𝑛 𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦٫ 𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑟’𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘."

It had already been a few months since you've stopped talking with Mizu. Time had already passed and the intense longing for her soon dissipated into a dull ache residing in the corners of your heart. You were okay for the most part, except for the fantasies of you and her together coming back when you saw shades of blue resembling her eyes.

Though honestly, that happened a bit too often to let you forget about her.

The 'what if's in your mind had stopped running its course. Even your imagination had stopped visualizing you and her together. It was as if she was just a little side quest, the bizarre news you said you'd never forget but you never remembered enough of anyway, a fond memory if fond memories had teeth and could tear your insides out. A silly little laugh you'd tell whoever loved you enough in the future to stay with you, if anyone loved you long enough to stay with you.

Life was no longer the woman standing in front your door with her eyebrows knitted together, eyes narrowed at you, and lips parted slightly as warm puffs of air came out in a soft pant. You no longer cared for the way her clothes and hair clung to her, how she was soaked to the bone with water still dripping onto your cute little welcome mat, how her jaw tensed up from the cold. No. You were over her, you said to yourself.

...

...

"Can I come in?"

"Sure. Come on in."

Are you sure you were over her?

The ticking noises made by the clock was muffled slightly by the sound of the pouring rain outside your window. Rain drops pitter-pattered on the roof loudly, mimicking the pounding of your heart. There you laid on the sofa, eyes glued to the ceiling as the woman of your dreams laid on your chest, arms wrapped around you tightly as if she loved you.

Her beautiful blue eyes were closed shut as she savored the warmth of your body against hers, seemingly loving the way you wrapped your arms around her as if she was a porcelain doll, careful yet warm. Her ear pressed against the left side of your chest, listening to your heartbeat like a lullaby exclusively for her.

You don't really understand how it happened. The universe just really had some odd and cruel ways of giving you heaven. Such as seeing Mizu soaked to the bone in front of your doorsteps, giving you a heart too weak to send her off, compassion too big to leave her shivering in her wet clothes, and a love too great to move on.

After taking a warm shower and changing her clothes, she remained silent, expression solemn as she ordered you to lay on the sofa which brings you to your current situation.

"Care to explain now?" you said, voice dripping with concern despite how nonchalant you tried to sound. A grunt reverberated from her throat before she shifted on her spot. Sighing, you wrapped your arms around her tighter, hand moving to the back of her head to stroke her damp hair.

A long moment of silence later, she finally spoke, heaviness unmatched. "They sabotaged my match." Your arms tightened their hold on her in surprise, blood running cold.

You knew how important her tournaments were for her. Sword fighting was Mizu's life, something that made her feel alive. It meant more than anyone or anything in this world to her. She spent years upon years training endlessly. Anyone who would get in the way was asking for hell. "Sabotage? Who in their right mind—?"

"Who else?" she answered, voice heavy and snapping with hatred. Thoughts raced through your mind, listing down every possible suspect, from her known enemies to her friends, thinking of who could have been so cruel to her. A name popped in your mind, but..it couldn't be? Right?

You bit the inside of your cheek, giving the soft flesh a slight nibble before stating your guess. "Was it...Mikio?" you asked hesitantly.

Your guess was confirmed to be true upon feeling her body tense up at the mention of the man's name. Rage seething out from her system, so thick you could almost physically feel it. "What? But he loves y—"

"—That's what I thought too," she cut you off, hand moving to grip the side of your shirt. Her heart beating so loudly in her chest it was practically pounding. "That...that bastard bribed the judges," she muttered through gritted teeth. "Him and my own mother."

The little demon in your conscience was hollering, shouting that she totally deserved it for ditching you after stealing your heart. A part of you wanted to rub salt against her wounds, make her feel the heartbreak you felt. However, the small crack in her voice had somehow pierced its way in and made your heartache. The genuine pain coating it haunted you. It made you want to rip your heart out and offer it to her, tell her to use it to mend the rips in hers.

"That's...I'm so sorry," you sighed out, hand moving to her cheek, stroking it like she was the most fragile thing on the planet. Only the sound of her breathing could be heard before the sound of her ragged sniffling hit your ears. Warm tears soaked through your shirt as she cried silently, hiding her face on your chest. Each sniffle weighing your heart down. It tore you apart to see her like this.

Minutes felt like hours, each tic of the clock in tempo with the gradually increasing heaviness you felt in your chest. After what felt like forever, her sniffles died down to slow and deep breaths before she finally looked up at you and spoke, "You won't...go anywhere, right?"

You could only smile at the question and nod, hand on her head pausing their movements. Her blue orbs stared at you, blinking slowly as she took your answer in. "You're really stupid, you know that?" she breathed out, closing her eyes. "Are you sure you won't go anywhere?" her voice could be heard, doubt making your heart ache.

"As sure as your heartbeat on top of mine." Don't doubt my love for you.

"𝐻𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑦 𝑎𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙٫ 𝑠𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 ‘𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢٫ 𝐼𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑢𝑠٫ 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑦٫ 𝑖𝑛 𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑖𝑔𝘩𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠٫ 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑙𝑦 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑤٫ 𝑜𝑟 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑜 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝘩𝑖𝑔𝘩٫ 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛 𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑐𝘩𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑚. 𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑙 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑠."

For a moment in your life, you thought everything was going well. She was finally spending time with you again. Though it could be your imagination, her actions seemed more affectionate than usual. The way she squeezed your hand a tad tighter, her eyes lingered on you when she smiled, and her 'goodnight's and 'have you eaten's felt a lot more caring.

It finally felt like you had a chance now.

During her club activities, she had met a few more friends. You were relieved for her, happy that she wouldn't be lonely and that she'd have people to spend time with. Sometimes, you'd even join them when they ate or watched them when they trained.

Along with you was a girl named Akemi, who would sit and watch them as well. If pretty was a person, she'd look just like her. Akemi grew up in a rich and well off family. She was polite, graceful, well-spoken, and intelligent. A dream girl.

And you weren't the only person who noticed it too. As time passed by, you watched as Mizu was once again swept off her feet away from you. She was captivated beyond imagination.

At first, you were fine with it. What wasn't there to love about Akemi? Even you couldn't help but enjoy her company. What seemed like platonic hangouts and accidental glances during training were the moments the woman you love was falling in love with someone else, all happening in front of you.

You felt so stupid not realizing it earlier. The way she went to her instead of you after training, staying late after lectures just to hangout with her, and the enchantment in her eyes when she looked her way.

It was only when she admitted it to you, on a sunny day in a small quiet cafe did you finally understand. "I like her," she told you in a soft voice, filled with happiness and affection, squeezing your heart in a way that you couldn't even describe. Her eyes, usually so cold and emotionless, were shining with every thought of her. "She's...so beautiful. I can't help it."

Fuck. That shit hurted.

The once healed stitches in your heart tore open once again, bleeding out at her words. You wished you could rip it out of your chest and step on it as she stepped on yours. Weight settled in your lungs, throat tightening, and head dizzying.

How much more of this did you have to endure?

"Hey..." Your hand reached out, wanting to hold hers before hesitating and placing it on her shoulder instead. The lump in your throat becoming more and more difficult to swallow with every second that passed by.

You wanted to scream at her, to tell her that you were here first, to tell her that you loved her more than she could ever like anyone else, to ask her why couldn't she just fall in love with you instead after all the times you shared together.

But you couldn't. She was so happy.

If Mizu was water, Akemi was the moon. Even if you were the sun, burning brightly to see yourself in her, she'd reach and crash tirelessly just to reach her moon.

Her heart was big, you knew it. Her heart would fall in love again, but it fell in love with everyone. Everyone except you.

You exhaled softly, steadying your breath before smiling warmly at her. "I'm glad you're choosing someone attractive this time," you joked at her, laughing at how she narrowed her eyes and rolled at you. The slight smile on her face tearing at you. "Oh shut up," she groaned, laughing a bit with you.

"But I'm really happy for you this time," you whispered, finger curling around the handle of your mug, lifting it to take a nice long sip. The circumference of the mug hiding your face from her as you lifted it a bit higher, keeping it between your lips for a moment, pausing the sips just to breathe a bit and keep yourself together.

"Tell me if you need help" you told her reassuringly once you had placed the mug down on the coaster once again. "I'll always be here for you, okay?" Collecting dust and waiting for you.

"𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑢𝑛 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑥 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝘩𝑒𝑙𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑥 𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑑: 𝘩𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠٫ 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑎𝑟-𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠٫ 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑎𝑖𝑟." -𝙾𝚟𝚒𝚍 𝙱𝚔 𝚅𝙸𝙸𝙸:𝟷𝟾𝟹-𝟸𝟹𝟻

With the number of times you've seen her adoring stares and the amount of aches you endured, time finally passed. Your heart was separate from the world, and in here, the seasons have passed and flowers have bloomed and wilted several times. The music finally stopped. Your soul has collected dust. The immense pain finally turned into a dull ache—a numb sensation.

Time really did heal all wounds, but maybe this was all the healing you could do. Indifference to the love she gave her.

What seemed like another ring of hell to others was the quiet calm you always wished to feel. The serenity of not wanting to rip your own throat out whenever you saw them together. The ability to dissociate from your person when her name came out of Akemi's mouth. The apathy to allow you to be happy.

Day after day. Week after week. Month after month.

You could finally live without her as your life. The gears in your heart finally stopped.

Now all you saw in her was a friend. Even as she stood in front of you, forlorn smile on her face. Love finally turned to loved. Like a broken television, only static could be heard in your once restless mind.

"Can I come in?" she asked, lifting a plastic bag she held in her hands. A hand on your hip, you looked at her, skeptical of what was inside. She opened the plastic to show you the content, beer and a bottle of gin. "Why do you come to me whenever you have problems?" you sighed at her, opening the door further anyways.

She chuckled and walked in, removing her shoes. "I couldn't think of anyone else," she answered, bitter smile on her face. With a small huff, you took the plastic bag from her and readied the alcohol on the coffee table. "Fine, I'll order some chicken."

"Thanks."

...

A couple of drinks turned into a whole mess. At first you thought she was just here to unwind, eat chicken paired with some beer, and tell you her problems. However, as the cans piled up and the shots lost their taste, you soon found Mizu kneeling in front of you, cheeks flushed as she pressed her lips along the softness of your legs. Her eyes desperate, burning with affection for you. The same affection that you had yearned for, now meaningless to you.

"Fuck...I need you," she whispered, voice low and heavy as her kisses traveled up your leg, sending shivers down your spine. Your hands placed themselves at the back of her head, fingers entangling themselves within the locks of her hair. "Mizu," you breathed out, head leaning against the cushions. "What about Akemi?"

Her movement paused for a moment, eyes turning into a slight glare before she grunted and placed her lips back on your skin. "She has a boyfriend now," she muttered against your skin, teeth nipping at it lightly. "Some rich man her father arranged her marriage with."

The rough hands you used to hold with much endearment pushed against your thighs, lifting herself up and leaning closer. "Besides, I realized something..." The sofa squeaked under both your weights as she continued to lean closer. Blue hypnotizing you as your eyes met. Her pupils dilated, looking up at you in an almost pleasing manner. With the gin working its magic, she lost most control over her inhibitions, and in a breath said...

"I love you."

Your eyes, despite the wooziness from the alcohol, widened at her whispered confession. Throat shutting close, making it difficult for you to breath. All you could manage was to narrow your eyes at her and stare.

You couldn't believe it. It felt like some weird illusion to you. It was like none of this was real. The words you've dreamt of hearing were now directed towards you, finally towards you and yet, it felt like a sick joke.

At your silence, she leaned closer until your foreheads were touching. Her gaze soft, affectionate, and pleading. Slowly, her warm lips captured yours in a hungry and passionate kiss. Her hands cupping your cheeks tenderly, pulling you closer.

You used to imagine yourself in this situation, thoughts drifting to dreamland in the middle of the day, hopelessly praying for it to come true. Your thoughts would run wild like a lovestruck teenager, heart going a thousand miles per hour. But now that you were living what you once dreamed of, all you felt was numb.

Fuck the universe, you thought, putting a hand on her nape to pull her in as you kissed back with mirrored passion. Lips parting slightly to let your tongues dance together in a heated match. Small groans and ragged breaths echoing through the walls of your apartment as your tongues caressed each other's languidly.

One hand traveled under your shirt, touch roaming the warmth and expanse of your skin, savoring how soft you felt. Each finger pressing softly, feeling each rib until her rough palm landed on your breast. She smiles ever so slightly as you moan into the kiss, returning it with a groan of her own upon squeezing and feeling how soft the mound of flesh was in her hand.

Her other hand hurriedly undid the knot on the drawstring of your shorts, pulling the clothing down your thighs, leaving you in your t-shirt and panties. You could feel her gliding her hand across your thighs, giving it a little squeeze, heat further rushing through her system at how soft you felt. Traveling up, her hand reached the thin fabric of your underwear, feeling how wet you were becoming.

A thin line of saliva connected your lips together as both of you pulled away, the burning feeling from the lack of oxygen frustratingly getting in the way. Mizu panted audibly, her cheeks to the tip of her ears flushed from the alcohol running in her blood and the amount of desire she had for you.

You watched as she readjusted her position, moving until she was face-to-face with your clothed sex. "I...I love you," she repeated, still panting. Suddenly, she pressed her nose against your panties, causing both of you to groan softly, her senses going overdrive at the feel and smell of sex. "Fuck. I can feel you throbbing."

Her own hands hurriedly unbuttoning her pants, pulling it down while she pressed her nose against your panties, rubbing against your clit. Your soft mewls sounded so cute to her. You were an angel. You always have been to her. Wanting to hear more, she pressed her lips against the damp spot on your underwear, feeling how slippery it was underneath. The smell becoming more intense and addicting like a drug meant for her.

Unable to resist, she kicked her pants off, one hand traveling to her own panties. But before she could even press a finger against the wetness seeping through her underwear, the soft plush of your thighs squeezed each side of her face, trapping her head between them. Your foot nudged her hand away, depriving her of the chance to pleasure herself, causing her to look up.

"Who said you could touch yourself?" you asked her, looking down at her with a dark stare. She narrowed her drunken eyes at you in confusion and disbelief. Stubbornly, she tried to touch herself again, only for your foot to nudge her hand away even harsher. The loss of control dawned on her, sending shivers down her spine. "Touching yourself when you haven't even pleased me. I thought you love me?"

Mizu opened her mouth to answer back, but the overwhelming need to please you swept the words from her mouth. Swallowing thickly, hands once again moving to your underwear. Opening your legs slightly, you allowed her to pull the flimsy piece of fabric down, exposing yourself to her. It wasn't the first time she's seen your cunt, but this time it felt different.

Different to her at least.

She looked up at you only to be met with your impatient stare, making her shrink in her place. Maybe it was just her, but this time you felt...cold. An inexplainable shake choking her throat, hoping that it was only the alcohol; but undeniably and embarrassingly, it was turning her on. Slowly, she spread your folds with the index finger and thumb of her left hand, tongue darting out to give you a slow lick.

"That's it..." you moaned at her, spreading one thigh outward to give her better access. A groan left her lips as your fingers entangled themselves within her locks. You moved your foot, running it across her panties, eliciting a whimper from her lips. With the small reward, Mizu began eagerly moving her tongue across your folds. Her own moans matching yours as you moved your foot in rhythm with her tongue.

Just as she was about to move up to your clit, you stopped her again, hand pulling on her hair. "Show me," you breathed out, panting softly. Mizu looked confused until she felt your foot tug on the elastic of her underwear. Obediently, she pulled her own panties down and slowly started touching herself, moaning loudly as she encircled her clit with her fingers.

It was embarrassing, beyond embarrassing, to be in such a lewd and vulnerable position. But god, she was so wet.

You pushed her head close to your pussy, her tongue immediately darting out and licked at your clit, one hand spreading your folds while the other pleased herself. Your moans mixed together like a chorus of pleasure. Her fingers slowly pushed themselves into the warmth of her cunt, causing her moans to grow louder.

More and more, the world around her started getting hazy as she got drunk from the taste of your pussy. The intensity of her desire making her mind swirl and her heart swell. She looked up, admiring your appearance, eyes half-lidded and glossed over, cheeks flushed, lips slightly swollen.

It could be the alcohol, but were you always this pretty when she ate you out?

"I...I..love you," she moaned out, movements growing more desperate and erratic as she moved her fingers faster. Mizu could feel her own climax coming close, her breath growing more ragged with every thrust. "...need you so fucking bad.."

Her tongue moving hungrily, wanting to taste you more, as if you were the best thing she's ever had. Like a starved sinner, you were the touch of cold water on the tip of her tongue.

You could feel your orgasm drawing closer, waves of pleasure causing the coil of your climax to tighten. "A-ah..Mizu...'m gonna fucking cum," you moaned, fingers tightening their grip around her hair. Her tongue picked up its pace, desperately wanting to drive you to the edge. There was no helping herself. She was too drunk on you.

With a bitten back moan, orgasm washed over you, body twitching, pussy throbbing against her tongue. The wet appendage made its way inside your entrance, thrusting itself in and out, letting you ride down the euphoria of your orgasm on her. Her own orgasm taking over her, making her moan loudly against your cunt. Wet squelching sounds could be heard as she continued to fuck herself on her fingers, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from her high.

Pulling her tongue and finger out, she collapsed against your thigh exhaustedly, the leftover drunkenness from the gin and beer still making her woozy. She wrapped her arms around your hips as your body relaxed as well, snuggling against you subtly.

"I love you. I was a fool not realizing it before," she mumbled against your skin, the sound of genuine guilt and affection mixing into her regularly gruff voice. "Please. Just...give me a chance," her voice croaked out. The few octaves raised would have tugged at your heartstrings before, but genuinely, you felt nothing now.

Your hands gently combed through her hair, looking at her with what she could only hope to be affection, before sighing. A smile tugged up your lips, making her breath hitch. Slowly and with fond gentleness, your hands traced the features of her face, moving to run your thumb across her bottom lip.

"I love you too," you said affectionately, words lacking meaning.

The lie brought a smile to her face, her still-wet hand holding on to yours. Hope and love running through her oblivious self.

There was no more Mikio, Akemi, or whoever else had captured her heart. Only you.

They were the moon, the object of the sea's affection. You longed so long to be like them.

But you were the sun

and Mizu was just Icarus.

[francis-writes]

Could you do a NSFW Alphabet about Claude Frollo or any other Disney Villain you prefer?

Judge Claude Frollo NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Perhaps you wouldn't expect this but he gets very soft and cuddly. He's too tired and high on serotonine so for some time you don't see him scowling. Instead he just nuzzles his head in your chest and pulls you closer to him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Claude doesn't pay that much attention to his look, he rather brags about his wisdom, power and righteousness but if he had to choose something, it would probably be his figure in general. The fact that he's tall and slender, yet still strong despite his age.

In your case, it would be your thighs. He likes to squeeze them, lay his head on them, have his head squeezed by them

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It isn't that important to him but if Frollo had to choose, he would decide to come inside of you. First, because he's catholic and it's one big breeding kink, second - because it makes him feel that he possesed you more.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

You are his dirty secret. Other people probably don't suspect that Frollo has a lover and even if he makes it official, he wants everybody to thing that your the most proper christian couple, sleeping together only to make kids, in complete darkness, without any light, missionary and God forbid any additions to spice things up. If any of you have any marks from heated session, you must cover them and play a virgin in front of Paris.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I headcanon that before meeting you, Claude was a virgin or had maximum a few intercourses. In general, he was celibate in repressed, avoiding even thinking about carnal desires.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He doesn't have one, it depends on his mood. Sometimes he prefers missionary so he can be maximally close to you, sometimes he likes to take you from behind to dominate and overpower you, sometimes he likes you on top. There's no rule.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

To quote Cabaret: "You know this funny thing about Frollo? Yeah... there's nothing funny about Frollo". Maybe once now and then he says something funny, but it's usually morbid/dark/threatening. You know, his kind of humour.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He doesn't pay attention to it but he doesn't have much hair there anyway. They are small, delicate and gray.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Well, he's very passionate, that's for certain. He always fuck you as if it was his last day alive and he uses every opportunity to savour your body.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Remember when I said that Claude avoided even thinking about carnal desires? Well, that's not completely true. Sometimes when he was laying sleepless in bed, he gave into his urges and jacked off, wondering how would it be to break his vows and feel someone's warm touch. But he always had a great remorse later.

Now when you're together, he still jacks off but usually when you're away and he has no choice but to take care of himself. Other things that changed is that now he thinks about you; and he doesn't feel any guilt later.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

A lot. I already wrote many posts about his kinks so now I will just give a quick summary: Frollo is a switch. He likes to torture and dominate you, perhaps roleplay, but he's also a big sub with mommy kink. And he has a foot fetish.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He claims he's refined and picky, which is usually true but when it comes to sex, Frollo would take you wherever. Your bedroom, his office, dungeons of Palace of Justice, even his carriage. If he gets horny, he's not gonna wait until you come home.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

I know it sounds cliche, but everything. Once you get into his bed, it goes like avalanche of repressed desires. Everything in you turns him on, you don't even need to tease him. Your look, your joke, the delicate touch of your hand. Oh, and also murder and torturing people but that's by the way.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Despite his tendecy to fuck in risky places, Frollo would rather avoid getting caught or let people know more details about your intimate life. He has reputation to uphold.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Claude loves it, no matter which way. He enjoys being waken up with a blow job but he also can spend hours just to give you pleasure.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the moment but he usually likes it rougher, no matter who is in control. Still, there are times when he just wants some sweet loving.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He's all for quickies and nothing strange, considering how often he gets horny. No matter the place, he always can take you right here, right now.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As I said, when you break that first "oh no, it's a sin", Frollo is pretty much open to experiments as long as they stay a secret.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He isn't that young anymore but he still has some vitality in him. Anyway I would say that if he takes a little break after each round, he can last long.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

How many toys existed in middle ages? Anyway, when it comes to basics like ropes and whips etc he's all for it but you would have to convince him to use a dildo for example. (It takes a bit convincing but it's not very hard)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn't tease you (he likes to keep his image of stoic cold judge) but enjoys when you do it. He can't stand it for long tho and he quickly pulls you to the nearest private place.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He tries his best to stay quiet but he fails miserably. He only can hold back his moans a bit when you're in a more public place and Frollo has to avoid ruining his reputation (never stopped him from fucking you in the carriage tho)

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

It's a tough topic because it can as well be one of no's as one of the kinks. Perhaps both because forbidden fruit tastes better. In short: blasphemy kink and hierophilia. If you convince him to read scripture or wear a cassock during sex, he will be secretly really turned on.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

According to 1st law of dick, he's packin, but tbh i would adore his dick however it would look.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Bigger than you would thought in his age. He would probably like to fuck a few times everyday, start and end every day with your body (and enjoying it in breaks from his job).

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Rather fast. As much as he likes it, sex tires him, he isn't so young after all, so he needs a quick nap.

[rise-my-angel]

NSFW Alphabets

Jon Snow and Robb Stark

Pairings: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 17.5k

Warnings: smut, oral (m and f receiving), p in v, discussions of various kinks, mentions of past sexual assault and trauma, talk of pregnancy, hard dom/soft dom/sub dynamics explored, bdsm related content

Notes: The dynamics are based off of pairings from my series Heart of the Great Wolf, but can be read on it's own for the most part. Broad strokes for it being read without my fic series context: the relationship timeline was the reader secretly seeing Jon pre start of show/books, then married to Robb in an arranged marriage during the Kings visit to Winterfell, and then back with Jon post his resurrection hence why his sections are split into two parts. Might contain some spoilers for part 3 and a bit of part 4, for my fic in some places.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

You two had never gotten far that normal aftercare was ever needed. Jon might be teasing, but he was gentle and slow, and that went right through start to finish.

Sometimes, all you had was the alone silence of the middle of the night, and whatever you two had tentatively done with one another always ended with a struggle to let the other go. Jon simply didn't have time or the freedom to take care of you after making you cum. Even when it was something more simple, kissing the other on his bed, his back against the wall and you perched in his lap, as the closest you got as a grind against his covered cock. Jon would kiss you gentle once on the lips another to your forehead as he held you tight until he was sure you were alright to be on your own.

The last thing he wanted was to send you off to your own chambers, feeling as if Jon had just mindlessly kicked you out.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

There is very little Jon takes more seriously then caring for you after sex. He knows exactly what he is, intense and overwhelming, and he knows he is rougher with you then he sometimes realizes in the moment.

As soon as you both settle from your peaks, Jon will pull you quick into his arms. Some nights he will keep you on his lap, tucking your face into his neck as he runs a hand over your hair and the other gentle along your back and waist, until he feels your breathing return to normal. Or Jon moves to lay you out, normally somewhat on your side so he can turn to face you, tucking you into his chest. His own face buries in your hair as his voice is low and rasping, soothing words to you of comfort. Praises of how well you did as he tries to convince himself to be gentle if he kisses you.

Jon will always ensure you feel safe, and loved before anything else, and he will keep running his hands gently on your skin and murmur comforts in your ear until he feels you fall asleep. Even then, he normally continues to stay awake, watching you until he finally feels his eyes beg for sleep of his own. The rougher he takes you, the more gentle and soothing Jons touch and words are after as he coaxes you back for him.

Robb Stark:

Robb is fully aware of how hard he goes with you. You have minimal experience outside of him, and he brought you into this sort of thing with rough thrusts and a dominating nature. But it also means he knows how much he needs to make up for that when it's all over.

He will check up on you, ask if he went too far or if you didn't enjoy something and the next time he pays close attention to how far you've dropped and when. Which with him, is often. But Robb switches when it's all over, and the second he looks at you, all he sees is the love of his life and he wants to bring you calmly back to him. He'll hold you, speak soothingly to you with tender touches along your skin and many times he tries to get you to talk. The more you talk, the more clear your head is, and if he can make you laugh then Robb knows you're alright.

Much of the time, you often end up falling asleep together in the same position your aftercare was spent. Robb usually on his back, his arms wrapped around you as he tucks you into his side and your head drapes comfortingly on his chest. For all his talk, Robb loves nothing more then to just lay in bed and cuddle with you when you're done, and he adores that you are just as needy for a loving touch.

If anything, aftercare that Robb needs from you, is to just let him hold you and keep you tucked into his arms as much as you need his touch to calm you down as well.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

If you were to ask Robb, his brother would joke that it's his hair he likes best about himself. But in truth, Jon never really thought much of it in that way. Of himself. He looked how he looked, and he didn't really care about much of it.

Robb was more handsome and Jon didn't really care what girls thought of how he looked because as long as you liked how he looked, that's all that mattered.

On you? Jon had two answers, if it were blatantly sexual Jon would say your breasts. Soft, seemed to be made to fit perfectly in his hands and you were sensitive as all hell, that simple touches could work you up in an instant.

Not sexually though, it would be your smile. Not just any, but that soft, gentle one you'd give him when no one else was looking, beacuse you just wanted him to know you were paying attention to him no matter what. You were so stone faced all the time, but whenever you'd give Jon that smile? It could make the worst of his days better in an instant.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Easily that would be his hands. He did much with them and despite the amount of which was death and bloodshed, Jon knew he never did it beacuse he liked it. Jons hands were to him, a reminder of the man he had become, someone who at their core, was a protector. Of you, of the innocent, fighting for what was right when no one else would make the sacrifice.

But they also were the same hands that calmed you down. Your worst moments, trapped still somewhere in a hell of Ramsay Boltons making, they were the same hands that would cup your cheeks, run along your soft skin until you looked at him with those eyes.

Eyes that were something he could never get enough of. Soft and wide, you held so much more emotion in them now then you ever did before, and Jon adored it. You almost couldn't hide from Jon as long as he could find your eyes, and read whatever was in your head in seconds. They were beautiful to him, and they were the same eyes he kept dreaming that your children together would have, and that made them the thing he adored the most.

That, and Jon knew he had a tendency to make you look him right in the eyes when he was inside you, and he was weak to how needing they always looked when you did.

Robb Stark:

Robb easily loves his hands. How since you've been married, since you escaped Kings Landing and came back to him, all hes wanted to do is use those same hands to protect you. It's easy to tell, Robb almost always has a hand on you if he's near and it's heavily rooted in how he knows your safe and he can protect you, if he feels you right beside him.

He also knows how much of a mess he makes of you with them in so many ways. Those hand go quickly from innocent and protective all the way to perverse in seconds. And he knows exactly where to put them to make you melt to him.

On you, his favourite more innocent part of your body is your hips. They're perfect to him, shaped just right to the way he can so easily imagine you with his child right in your arms, a son perched near your hip as even then, you still speak to his lords and knights with command. He has a hand on them a lot, likes to move you with hands on your hips, they're just soft and perfect for him.

More on the filthy side, Robb fully can admit he is utterly obsessed with your ass. He knows it, you know it, there's no question. He wants you in pants all the time just beacuse of how well they shape your ass, the harder he smacks them the more he watches your cheeks jiggle and he gets worked up aggressively when he can see the red outline of his hand print after he's slapped and groped your ass as much as he can get away with.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Call it insecurity, but Jon almost didn't want his end to be part of the equation with you. If he could make love to you and not have to worry about that, he'd have been ready a long time ago.

To him, sure it felt good, but when he was with you he was always plagued in the back of his mind. Getting you pregnant was truthfully his biggest fear, and so he spent a lot of time learning what felt best for you when he touched you, and not wanting to let you do much back. Jon loved learning what made you cum, but he was almost strict in not really letting you reciprocate. He liked making you feel good, and he didn't ever want to risk ruining your life by getting you pregnant, and he certainly refused to force his own child to be born a bastard.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon knew as soon as he slid inside you for the first time, it was different. Not a shred of that insecurity was in his mind anymore.

He fucked you against the wall that night steady and slow, and there was not a shred of doubt in his mind that he wanted to cum as deep as he could. Pressing you tight against the wall and sinking as far as you could take him, all Jon wanted to do after, was do it again. And again. He dreamed about it, he craved it, he loved cumming inside you and he didn't have the sensibility or willpower anymore to stop himself.

He was quick all on his own to have everything to brew you moontea, he wasn't about to get reckless. Until you were both in the right place together, Jon would make sure part of taking care of you after was to make you some as you rested. Easing whatever parts of both your minds would worry if you became pregnant before either of you were ready.

But really, Jon wanted only to spill inside you, and when you couldn't take anymore then he'd paint your beautiful skin with whatever he still had left.

Robb Stark:

There are only two places Robb wants to cum, down your throat or inside your cunt. If some gets elsewhere then you look like a dream painted with his seed, but if he isn't cumming inside you, he wants it down your throat.

He would watch you swallow his seed and the man could almost orgasm again just from that sight and feeling. The knowledge that even just your stomach is filled with him, as much as he fills you with his cock, makes him lose his mind. And you swallow him so happily too, as if you love the taste of him and he suspects you are too embarrassed to admit you do.

But he also loves cumming inside you. At his core, Robb is a man dedicated to family, it means everything to him. And he wants every and any chance to start one with you, so he always wants to cum deep inside you as many times in a night as he an get away with. The more he does, the sooner likely you may find yourself pregnant.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

It's not dirty, nor is it much of a secret really, but Jon sometimes wondered if you truly understood just how long he's been in love with you.

He knew Lord Stannis Baratheon's daughter was coming to serve as his fathers ward, but he didn't think much of it until the day you arrived. He and Robb were 10 and had been in the training yard. But his memory was so striking and vivid when his father had come by with this small 8 year old girl with scared eyes looking everywhere with uncertainty.

Robb was swinging a practice sword at him, and almost accidentally smacked him in the head, beacuse Jon had stopped paying attention since he was staring so much. When he realized who you were, he almost wanted to throw up at realizing he was going to have to spend months in the same home as you, beacuse he thought you were the prettiest thing he's ever seen.

When you had been introduced to Robb, you looked at him after and asked what his name was. He was nervous telling you he was a Snow, but as soon as you asked simply if he was the other son of Lord Stark which your father mentioned, he realized you had barrelled right past the fact that he was a bastard and just lumped him in the same place as Robb.

Jon hadn't ever said it, but he was pretty sure he fell in love with you then, and it never stopped for even a second after.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon sort of has two secrets. One is more blatantly filthy, one is a little more serious. The serious one is something you think is only a joke.

He had told you once, that he had previously wondered when he was thinking of taking the black, if he should just take you far north instead. Leave, and build you a nice, warm home there where you could just be together. But in those dreams, Jon genuinely wanted children. He could see at least five, in that memory. Four little ones running around, and you swollen with his fifth child, beacuse who you two were didn't have to matter.

It was a sensitive subject for you now, and he would never even consider pushing before you were ready. But by present day when he would joke that his dream was up to ten children, Jon didn't know how to tell you that he wasn't really kidding. He never thought he would have a family, and now that he could with you, he wanted as many as you both could possibly have.

His second was blatantly filthy. Jon loved your breasts, perfect size for his rough hands and they were so sensitive. But Jon heard something from one of the free folk once, and now he held this dirty image of marking them up. Bruises and indents from his mouth and teeth until they turned colour, marking them right up until they were so sensitive you could tear up.

Then he wanted you to lay out on his bed, and he'd climb up over you and fuck them. Slide his cock in the space between your breasts and fuck them like he was inside you.

Then, just to finish the image, right when he was about to cum he'd pull back enough to make sure he coated both of your breasts in his seed, before grasping you again roughly to spread himself all over them.

Not in any life would Jon want to ask you for that, but it didn't stop him from thinking about everytime his teeth ran over the small buds on your breasts.

Robb Stark:

Robb has done it in small doses, tying up your wrists behind you, but Robb dreams of you letting him go a little more feral with it.

He wants you tied up all the way, at nothing but his mercy, can't move on your own, tie your pretty legs to the bed posts to keep you spread and your hands together up above your head. He'd blindfold you, too.

He wants to be so in control of everything that happens to your body in that scenario, without you even being allowed to see what he does, he wants you to trust him to such a degree you give up all your control left.

He won't ask you for that, he knows he'd be asking for something that's too extreme, so he does it in small doses. Makes you keep your eyes closed, ties only your wrists, only drags a small blade down a shift to expose your breasts when really if he could, Robb would do so much more. Maybe keep you standing in the middle of his bedroom, hang your arms up above your head with rope and cut off all your clothes like they're nothing to him. He has no idea where this desire has come from, but gods does he ever come up with new and inventive ways to ease you into every bit of it.

Maybe one day, you'll let him be enough of a animal, to just let him treat you like a pretty little slab of meat he can do whatever he wants with. Just once.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Not a shred of experience to be found. But Jon wasn't embarrassed about it.

He didn't care what others said about him, they didn't know Jon had you. Jon had been in love with you since he was 10, he never wanted any other girl that entire time, and he couldn't convince himself to look at one long enough to even try for a kiss. You and Jon were each others firsts. He was 18 by the time he kissed you that night in the wolfswood, and he was so happy he saved it for you.

After that, he dreamed of learning what you both liked together, and he enjoyed discovering all of it. You never went that far together, you both enjoyed taking it slow, but it was always at the exact same speed as the other.

So he'd let Theon make his jokes about him not being with a girl, Jon and you would get there when you both were ready.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon knew his approach to physical intimacy with you was different now, but he didn't like thinking about why.

On one hand, he knew you had much more natural experience. You married Robb, he took your maidenhood, and he taught you everything you had learned of sex in the three and a half years you shared. But then you were the Boltons captive, and every single bit of confidence, every part of you that was growing comfortable with sex was destroyed, taken away from you by force at the hands of Ramsay. And in a horrible way, whatever confidence Jon had spent 6 years building with you, was taken away from him too.

Calling his time with Ygritte “experience” made him feel unwell. It wasn't that. It was survival. Jon knew in his time travelling with her, he had tricked himself into thinking it was normal. Pretended it was normal to never want it, pretended it was normal to actively feel such deep self hatred if his body even remotely enjoyed the physical sensations alone, pretended it was normal to actively find ways to avoid letting her near him if he could. He didn't want any of what Ygritte took from him, but that was all the experience in terms of sex that Jon had.

It was why he pushed so hard to do certain things, like putting his mouth between your legs, with you as often as he did. If he consumed his mind with doing it with you, it negated the force in which made him learn about it in the first place. It wasn't easy, and he still knew he was avoiding talking about the worst of it with you, but Ramsay had hurt you more then Ygritte forced him, and so Jon preferred to focus on taking care of your safety.

Robb Stark:

If he were to summarize it in simple terms, Robb would say girls liked him more then he liked the girls. He wasn't stupid, he understood it. Robb knew he was handsome. He was the eldest son of Lord Eddard Stark, and he was also the heir to Winterfell. Robb knew he had a charm to his attitude that swooped in the easy giggles from girls.

But Robb more enjoyed that in a playful manner then he did serious. Sure he had sex with some of them, a few of them more then once but he never really had feelings for them beyond surface level affection. Never enough that his father or mother even would've really met any of them except in coincidental passing. Hell, compared to Theon the two men used to joke, Robb may as well have the experience equal to that of a septa.

By the time he married you, he hadn't been with a girl physically in years, and even if he did, all it meant was he knew how a girls body worked a little better then most guys. He knew your body better then you did before he ever touched you though, considering how overwhelmed he made you on your wedding night.

You were always so innocent compared to him, that he knew it made you feel as if he had hundreds of girls before you. But in truth it had only been a handful. And more importantly, he had never been anywhere near in love before he married you, and so you were the only experience he cared about.

He didn't fuck you on your wedding night like he did other girls, he fucked you in a way he had carefully planned out that you would enjoy. His experience just meant that he went in with more confidence then not on your wedding night.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

You two had never gotten that far, so he never really had a reason to think about what he preferred.

Jon did enjoy standing behind you when you two were alone, his hands gently trailing along your skin or under the collar of your dress. His hands rough and pulling gasps that you would bit your lip to prevent when he would twist and pull at the small pink buds of your breasts. Jon would always press his lips lightly to your neck, beacuse he loved how you would instinctual lean back into him. Rely on Jons firm stature to keep you standing on two feet as he eased you into his touch.

Maybe he was biased too, but if he were touching you more intimately, he liked having you sit on a surface as he stood between your legs. It was the way you two were positioned when he touched you for the first time out in the wolfswood, and he treasured that day a lot. He loved cupping your cheeks when standing before you like that, knowing as soon as he'd let one hand drift down your arm, you'd almost tense up in wonder if you'd feel his hand jump to pull the skirt of your dress up. Or if he'd simply wrap it around your waist to pull you more into his kiss innocently.

It wasn't a position of sex he liked about it, he just knew you associated it with the same afternoon he did, and Jon loved to tease you with his touch so you could only wait and see if he'd once more grace you with the experience again.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

There was no question Jon didn't just prefer missionary, he adored it.

Not a single other way he's taken you has Jon liked more or even anywhere near close to when he simply hovers over you with your legs gently spread for his body. One large hand hoisting your thigh up onto his hip while he felt your other leg move to almost wrap partially around one of his legs as if needing him to keep you steady flat out on the bed.

He loved taking you when you were nice and comfortable, spread out on his bed or on the furs in front of the fire in his chambers. He'd hover over you and be able to see every inch of you, move your legs either apart or over his shoulders when his mouth watered at the thought of tasting you. He could kiss you anywhere that way, and hold you down, as his strength meant he could keep you there as he kissed his way down to your cunt. And it also meant he could follow that path right back up and force you to taste yourself on his tongue while his other hand moved to sink his cock deep inside you. All the while, Jon could watch you and your eyes perfectly and you never had to do the work if he held you there. Just the way Jon wanted it.

Jon loved being able to control the pace he would fuck you at, ensure you were nothing but in deep pleasure. He could reach his hands up, interlock his fingers with yours and press them into the sheets. He could watch your face twist in pleasure, and your hands would tighten around his own fingers too, the closer you got. Or he'd let them go free, and you'd unknowingly claw your nails down his back as you arched into him as you came. He could bury his face in your neck or hair and the position meant he could go as fast or gentle as he wanted.

There was not a single thing which would beat how much he could focus on you when Jon took you in simple missionary.

Robb Stark:

He loves taking you from behind, and there is no way Robb could deny it. Nor would be bother to. He was a gods forsaken wolf about it.

The second time he ever fucked you, he had been apart from you for months. Now back, you were both going to war, you had just escaped Kings Landing and hadn't been with him since your wedding night. But he had spent so much of that time, letting his mind drift to you during his days, that finally seeing you again he almost jumped into it as if you'd been with him all that time. Theon had once commented that he could've mistaken you two for being married for decades, the way Robb would bring you up more then he ever had in the eleven years the men knew one another.

But then he had you back, in his bed as you raked your small hands through his curls that so gently woke him up, and more importantly, woke his cock up. He flipped you over, and as soon as you were on your hands and knees he yanked your hips so you basically were only lifted off the bed only by your ass, so he could fuck you from behind. The way in which you so willingly submitted to him in that position, how Robb could pound into you like that as fast and rough as he freely wanted, and all you could do was cry his name and take it.

You soaked his cock like none other when he had you on your hands and knees, and sometimes he'd shove a hand in your hair and hold your face down to the pillow and all you'd do was clench tightly around his cock.

He knew he was acting nothing of a gentleman, and his mother would be utterly ashamed that Robb would take his wife like a complete brute. But when you were bent over in front of his cock, giving yourself over to his mercy or lack thereof and would beg for more even when he was rough about it? It made him lose his mind.

Besides, Robb was quite blatantly obsessed with your ass and from that position, he could smack and grope it all he liked. But when you really lost yourself to his cock? Your own hips bouncing back on him the whole time he fucked into you? Well it would just make him run his mouth even filthier towards you for it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? Etc.)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Goofy was not a word anyone had ever used to describe Jon Snow.

He was brooding, intense, he felt things very raw and that extended to you entirely. Jon would tease or smirk at the start when he'd kiss you, but the second it got a little more serious he dropped the act. He took your pleasure seriously, your mood seriously, and he didn't want his time with you to turn into a laugh when it was such limited time in the first place to have with you.

He loved to hear you laugh, don't get him wrong, but his physical time with you was limited, and it just wasn't the place he wanted to do that.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

If Jon was not a humorous man before, he was even less so now.

Both in life and sex, but it was more obvious when he was with you physically. Jon didn't even smile when he fucked you, not beacuse he didn't like it, or love you, but he felt nothing to be amused by. Sex was very serious to him, your safety and your well being couldn't be watched if Jon was goofing around or making you laugh.

He dedicated every ounce of focus to taking care of you, and he didn't like humour being involved there. Your safety was not funny to Jon. Sex with him was never goofy. It was intense, raw, and overwhelming for both of you. He had time to make you laugh later, that's what his words of teasing were for.

Not for the bedroom, though. Not now, not ever.

Robb Stark:

Robb would chuckle dark in what he know was a bit of a sadistic tendency towards you.

Would chuckle as you were a crying mess for him, or sometimes he would laugh at how you sounded begging for him, or gasping out that you love him. It meant you had him comfortable enough to drop the dominance enough to show the cracks of the mischievous boy underneath the rough man.

Even better was if he could make you laugh after sex, that was even better then during. He loved hearing you laugh, it was a gorgeous sound so many men would never hear in their lives. Robb loved that he was trusted enough with you, that you would let him hear you giggle like a little girl in the most venerable of moments of intimacy. He loved seeing you relaxed enough to feel that amused at anything.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? Etc.)

Jon Snow:

If there was a place in Westeros which that kind of personal grooming for men was common, the North wasn't it.

He didn't let it get out of control, but it wasn't as if smooth, clean cut men were the norm here, and Jon was not that anyways. His hair atop his head was long, wild, black, and thick and it was around his cock as well. Coarse and rough, more like his facial hair.

But at the least Jon did enough to ensure it was fair to you.

Always clean and trimmed enough that it wasn't out of control, but Jon didn't exactly put time into it. He didn't really care, only enough that was to treat you right.

Besides, if Jons cock was deep inside you, he knew when it was on the longer, wilder side, that coarse dark hair could brush against your clit and he knew the sensation was enough to make you grasp tightly around his shoulders and back. Once he learned that, he trimmed far less often.

After all, he knew you liked how much his facial hair could burn against your sensitive skin, so why would the hair around his cock be any different.

Robb Stark:

He won't lie to himself, Robb is sort of a classic Northern man in that sense. Body hair didn't feel like something he should be ashamed of. He wasn't a wild man around his cock, but he didn't trim as much as what he assumed fancy Southern men would like to do.

Tons of them in the Kings visit were clean cut, no facial hair to be found, and groomed all fancy, and Robb hated that his mother had his curls trimmed and face clean cut. She said it was for the Kings visit, but he knew it was supposed to be for you, even though Robb knew you liked him with facial hair. You had told him as such more then once before. But at least during the Kings visit, Jon had to suffer with him on that one.

The hair by his cock was dark, coarse, and unlike the hair on his head which tinted a Tully red in the sunlight, below his hair was as dark as it ever was. It was trimmed only enough that it wasn't obscene for you, but you also clearly didn't care that much. You sucked his cock no matter what state the hair around his cock was in, so as long as it was manageable he didn't think much of it.

Robb knew he fucked you like a wild beast, so maybe it made sense he kept himself groomed only slightly above one in return.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon doesn't have much of an active physical relationship with you, mostly due to the nature of keeping things secret.

The biggest part of what he can give you, is simply romance at its core. Gentle touches, soft hands, doing little things for you and always with low tones and comforting murmurs in your ear. Sometimes if he had you in his lap, then he could feel his heart tearing at him a bit, insecurity yelling as he doubts whether or not he's treating you well.

He wants you to be loved, no matter what he's doing and even though you both hadn't reached having sex, he's just as romantic about all the rest as he is when you're both innocent and fully clothed.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon is as romantic in the moment as he is utterly intense.

His emotions are at an all time high when he's fucking you, and yet he feels almost terrified of letting you think he's anything but obsessed with loving you with all his heart. His touches are tighter, rougher, words harsher as they come out, but Jon will cling you to just as much as he knows you do him.

Sex is intense with Jon, and making sure you feel loved, safe and cared for is his biggest priority.

You've both had your share of being forced on by another person and Jon will do everything to ensure you never come close to that again with him. Jon knows he's addicted to you, worships you, he'd go to the ends of the earth and back for you. And if you don't feel that and more when Jon is inside you, then he would consider that a failure on his part.

He's raw and intense, but romance and intimacy is what he treasures with you now and he would do anything to ensure he never gives you less then that.

Robb Stark:

If Robb was aware of a massive problem he struggled with, it was that he tended to forget the romantic side of sex with you.

He loved you, he adored you in every single way, but Robb definitely was a bit on the rough, and hard dominant side when he fucked you. Rough attitude, degrading words, harsh and controlling touches and he didn't kiss you a lot during sex.

He wanted to hear you whine and beg and he couldn't do that if he were gentle and sweet. He could be the meanest parts of himself knowing that he would take gentle care of you the moment he was done.

You were the love of his life, he wanted to take you home and treat you like the actual Queen you deserved to be with him in Winterfell, but at war it was different. He wasn't always like that during sex, but it was common enough that he had a heavy heart knowing you trusted him to truly take care of you when you handed your obedience over to him like that.

Robb knows he is more of a man that thinks of sex as fucking rather then making love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

If you were in Winterfell, no, he didn't masturbate.

Jon wanted to spend time with you, treasure every chance he got to feel your soft skin, your beautiful lips against his. If you were in the North, Jon had no thought of it, beacuse he had everything he would be fantasizing about anyways. You slowly explored things together, so if you were right in front of him, that was enough. But you weren't always there.

He hadn't started touching himself thinking of you until nearing fifteen. But really, what else was a teenage boy, with a crush on his best friend, supposed to do? It happened more after he kissed you though, he was eighteen and exploring more of an appetite for things sexual in nature anyways.

When you weren't there he would try and hold off, but sometimes you were gone for so long that he couldn't help it. It wasn't ever as satisfying as even being near you like that, but it was all Jon had when you'd be away from him for months.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon has you. He doesn't want anything else.

He came back to life, and only minutes after that did Jon slide his cock deep inside you for the first time, and he lost all interest in doing it himself then and there. He wanted you, your touch. Your wet, warm, and tight walls that clenched around him.

The only time he came close to masturbating anymore, was if he would bring your hand to his cock, covering it with his bigger one and help guide you to stroke him. But only ever until you felt confident to take over, otherwise any touch his cock got, he wanted it to be with you.

Masturbating just didn't interest him now. Jon had you, and he wanted you. Why settle for less then when he knew you wanted him as well?

Robb Stark:

Never once since you came back to him after escaping Kings Landing, did Robb not have you right there at his side. So in truth, Robb hadn't masturbated since you came back. What would he want that was better then his pretty little wife right in front of him?

When he was acting Lord of Winterfell, he admits he masturbated a bit more in the very dead of night then he used too. Partially the stress of everything, being away from his new wife after one night messed with his head on top of everything.

Robb would end up kneeling on the bed, grasping rough at what was supposed to be your pillow and stroke his cock. Through gritted teeth Robb would mutter as he did so how much he missed you, how much he wanted you back with him and how much he wanted to teach you beyond your first night together.

But then you were finally back, and Robb once more found no love for his hand when he had his pretty, needy little Queen ready to do whatever he said.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Without ever actually having sex, Jon didn't really have much of a concept of that kind of thing. He knew what he liked when you two were physical, but that level of sexual interest hadn't existed yet.

He had things he liked of course. He adored when you would run your hands through his hair, nails scratching along his scalp and giving little instinctual tugs when Jon would be a little more bold. He also knew he liked to take care of you, he liked making sure you felt good, and he loved to tease you until you might just pass out from a flustered embarrassment.

It was never in a context of genuine sex, but you and Jon learned together what you liked. You just didn't have the chance to take it that far.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

If you were to ask Jon directly, he'd say he didn't really have any kinks. But the more he'd think about you, the more he touched you it was clear there were some major ones.

Always making sure he was soft about it, and gentle as to not push you too far, but Jon loved being dominant with you. His entire life was at the bottom, out of his control and lacked any choice. But now? Now things were different, and you trusted him with your well being during sex and Jon took charge of that with immense responsibility.

He didn't like feeling not totally in control when with you, and dominance was the most natural way Jon presented himself during sex.

Jon didn't admit it to you, but he was obsessed with cumming inside you for a reason. He wanted to fill you with his seed constantly, over and over, keep it deep inside you until neither of you had anything left.

Jon would genuinely dream about keeping you tied to his bed, fucking you over and over, until you were with child.

Gods help him when he was with you, and his mind started to think about getting you pregnant. Because Jon didn't stand a chance of composure after that, all he dreamed of was you letting him spill inside you again and again until you swelled with his child.

And if that was a kink, then Jon absolutely had it.

Robb Stark:

Robb knows he can get a bit mean during sex.

He's dominant, very dominant. A strong, controlling weight on top of you that knows exactly how to order you around in the most pleasurable way for you. He gets off on being controlling dominant, and he also really gets off on how insanely obedient he's taught you to be.

You trust him so much that he could ask you to anything and you'd do it because you trust him to take care of you. It drives him mad how much you submit to him.

How he adores you with all his heart, but Robb degrades you like you're a whore in some brothel he's paying a copper for. And how much you love it. He so easily calls you a needy little slut, his whore of a Queen and you will whine everytime he hisses those things in your ear.

He also admits, that perhaps what helped him get used to being called a King, was hearing you say it as he fucked you. Having his Queen beg for her King to fuck her certainly made Robb learn he enjoyed it, at least as long as it came begging out of your pretty mouth.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

One might think his favourite place to be with you was the privacy of his own room, but it was really the opposite.

Jon had five siblings, three of the youngest which liked to barge in on him at any moment during the day, meaning anything he and you did in his room like that had to be very easily hidden.

Most of the time, you and Jon liked to just go for a ride on horseback for a while, and wherever in the wolfswood you would end up was where the most exploration you two had with the other. No one was around, the likelihood someone would find you exactly there was so minimal in the vast, large expanse of the not very populated North.

You both loved being outdoors like that, where no eyes would find you and you could be as close and affectionate with the other with total freedom.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon has two similar favourites, and a guilty pleasure.

Mostly, he loves taking you in his room. Either he wants to lay you out on his own bed where he can climb over top of you and take you as many times as he wanted, or Jon would do so as you were both bare on the fur in front of his fire. His room always ran cold, but between the heat of the fire he diligently would tend to, and the quite warm temperature of Jons own body heat, even on the coldest nights he could have you sweating if he fucked you in front of the fire for long enough.

He loved the intimacy, the freedom of fucking you where was the most personal to you both, and now his position and title meant being barged in on was unlikely. Jon would pull you into his arms, and let you tuck into his chest bare as anything as you fell asleep. If in his bed it was easier to cover you up. But if he laid with you after out on the fur, if someone walked in now, that was their fault.

He did however, have a more perverse pleasure in fucking you up against the Weirwood tree in the Winterfell godswood, the night sky all around. Jon loved taking you deep for only the unjudging eyes of the old gods to bear witness to his need for you.

Robb Stark:

If Robb is a traditional man in any way it's how he has no interest in fucking you anywhere but in his room, in his bed, or at least what tent acted for your room out in his army camp.

He's fine with people hearing you, if anything he hopes his men have had a few good nights with their own hand listening to the degree to which you whine and beg when his cock is pounding into you. But he never once would let them see even a glimpse. Not a chance.

One time Theon had walked in, and Robb got so mad at what he almost saw that the Greyjoy later swore Grey Wind was about to rip his head off. After that, Robb would have Grey Wind guard right outside your tent together, as long as he was there, no one came in for any reason.

The direwolf would come in to sleep when it was all over, but he kept guard so Robb could fuck you into the mattress as hard as he wanted without any more risk of someone seeing you so pretty as you took his cock over and over.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

For a man who was terrified of getting you pregnant, Jon knew it was strange to get worked up watching you with children. So much of the time you were stoic and serious. But you were so soft and easy to smile with children that he couldn't get enough of it.

Much more specific, the first kiss you shared after each time you would return to Winterfell would work Jon up. You two always having to wait until the dead of night, and finally when he was able to kiss you after however many months it had been, it inevitably turned into you both kissing passionately for quite a while.

Jon had to learn how to be very controlled when he wanted you, knowing neither of you had the freedom of just being able to express that whenever you desired.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Were you to strip Jon down to his bare essentials, he would honestly just be turned on by you at any time. It took mostly, for you to even be a thought in Jons head for him to want you.

Your soft eyes gentle smile and even more gentle and caring touches worked him up. Worse so, the more innocent your kiss, the more genuine your touch that wasn't sexual, it would make Jons cock the hardest the quickest.

You two were together and had the freedom to show it, Jon had no more reason to want to hide how much you made him want you. It definitely wasn't always sexual, but sometimes it was a struggle for Jon to not let it turn sexual.

He didn't want you thinking he saw you as an object to fuck, sex was something he trusted so much between you both that it was an extension of how much he loved and adored you. But it also meant, you made his cock stir more often now then Jon had likely even been hard in his entire previous life.

Robb Stark:

Jealousy was one of Robbs most blatant traits. He was so jealous of the way other men looked at you or spoke about you to the degree that it made him noticeably possessive.

But what made it so strong as a need to fuck you, was how little you noted or cared about any attention that didn't come from Robb. You ignored or didn't know what men were leering at you like, but the second Robb came over with rough touches and a strained voice he was so jealous, you'd ease it by instantly going to him with gentle words and a soothing, innocent touch.

He wants his men to hear you, because none of them with their whores visiting their own tents get from them, sounds anywhere near what Robb pulls from you for free.

You are the love of his life, and what turns him on too much is how easy it is for you to remind men of that just by your innocent dedication to his love in public. He would keep a hand on you, kiss you, be sweet with you in front of his men and you would get flustered over it but let him do it because you knew that's how Robb liked to treat you.

Robbs own jealousy was a motivator, but he also knew he was easily turned on by your continued ability to be so damned innocent.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

You would tell him it's ironic, considering half of the time he spent with you in the training yard over the years was him knocking you into the dirt, but Jon would never do anything that would hurt you.

His touch was sure to always be gentle no matter what, and never too rough or demanding. He also knew that he didn't want to treat you the way he knew a lot of men treated women they were with. Or if he were honest, the way Jon reluctantly knew Theon was with women. You shared a stretch of corridors with Theon where your own chambers were and thus you and Jon spent much time when in your chambers, coping with what was inevitable to hear.

Jon didn't want to be harsh and vulgar, treat you in a way that would make you feel as if you were just like a whore in a brothel he paid for. You had brought up, or tried to nervously bring up something you'd heard about from one of the girls around and Jon shot it down.

He knew somewhat of the girls you meant, and a few of them worked the brothel just outside the castle walls in Winter Town. And Jon just didn't want to treat you the way most men treated those women.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

A lot of his previous turn offs remained the same. Only now, Jon had to work on his own intense possessiveness versus his needs. He was a lot rougher with you now, and he had to consciously remind himself that he didn't want you to feel used.

He didn't fuck you hard like that beacuse he wanted to treat you that way, Jon would just lose himself in how you felt around his cock. But it all tied into not liking to feel out of control. He struggled to let you suck his cock, beacuse he would too easily lose control and overwhelm you by going too rough.

Jon didn't like being out of control, but he knew he was lucky that you did not want to be the dominant one in bed, as much as Jon did not want to be the submissive one. It worked well, you trusted to hand your safety over to Jon and he got to be the one to take care of you entirely. He wasn't really much interested in the opposite, he didn't want to be ordered around or told what to do, not for this, not with you.

He knew he had to work on how intense and rough he would get, but Jon sometimes just didn't realize how rough he was getting. You never seemed to dislike it, but he didn't want you thinking you were just here for someone to fuck. He loved you, he adored you, and he wanted to be the one to take care of you.

Anything less then being in charge, Jon just wasn't interested in anymore. If he ever really was in the first place.

Robb Stark:

Robb really only had two hard limits for himself. He didn't want to fuck you with any risk that someone was going to see you, and he refused to do anything that would genuinely hurt you.

He went rough and played dirty but not once did Robb like the idea that you could get hurt by his hands. You trusted him with your safety in bed and Robb would always take that responsibility with the heavy weight it deserved. He knew your limits and would never push you, if he thought he was at risk he would stop.

Check in with you, gauge what kind of response you gave and decide if he needed to ease up for your sake or not. Robb would slap your ass until it was red and painful, but only beacuse you liked when he did it. That smacking would never go anywhere but your ass, and maybe your cunt when you were being particularly needy.

Otherwise his biggest no is having anyone see you. Again, he ended up having Grey Wind stand guard outside his tent anytime he intended to fuck you, just to make sure the King in the North was given the proper time with his pretty little wife that he needed without interruption. You were his, and he wanted none of these men in his camp to have a chance at seeing you no matter what he teased with.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

It was ironic that you ended up being the one married with more experience, considering that Jon knew you had so little idea about sex it almost was endearing.

He had joked once that if your chambers were by Theons, how did you still know so little about sex. And you'd shove him all flustered, muttering that just beacuse you could hear sure as hell didn't mean you listened.

You had come to him one day about taking his cock in your mouth, and Jon knew you had learned it from those girls who worked in and around the Winter Town brothel. You weren't a whore he was paying for, he didn't want you on your knees like they would for any brute who had a copper to spare.

He had known somewhat about tasting a girl between her legs, but by the time he heard about it, you weren't graced with enough time for him to even try and bring it up. It was a story Theon had told when he, Jon, and Robb had a little too much wine one night. Robb had shoved the man and gotten up to find a tree to piss on, leaving Jon to listen to a drunk story but he was far too unconfident to ask a single question about it. By the time Jon might have wanted to bring it up to you, you had to leave for Kings Landing and wouldn't return until you did with the royal company to marry Robb.

And that was the end of anything he assumed.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

If Jon could abuse his new title, and simply order you to not suck his cock anymore, he might have. But that was too authoritarian, and way too controlling.

The issue for him was, Jon didn't like being the one not in responsible control, and he was too wild and unpredictable when you took his cock in your mouth. Jon would much rather live and die between your legs.

It was one of the first things he did when he had come back, and maybe that turned it into an addiction. Jons mouth watered at the very thought of tasting you, and he a time or two had done it for a few hours continuously beacuse he truly couldn't convince himself to leave. He never tasted something like the wetness he would drink from you, and he never would anywhere else. It was like an oasis crafted for him alone.

Sure, it felt unbelievable when you sucked his cock, but if he was going to lose control he'd rather it be with his mouth attached to your cunt where the most pushing he could do was shock you from too much pleasurable stimulation. Rather then pushing your safety and your anxiety too far, with his cock in your mouth when he knew it could go from enjoyable to unpleasant for you in a second.

Robb Stark:

There was no point in lying about it. Robb lived for you sucking his cock.

It was one of the first things he fantasized about still during your wedding night. He imagined guiding your mouth over him so often when you and him were separated after the wedding, that when you came back to him, it was the first thing he properly did with you. Had you suck his cock like a good girl, and ever since he was obsessed.

How well you did, how much you truly, desperately wanted to be able to take all of him, how you'd close your eyes and barley realize you were letting out hums of moans and needy whines the more you sucked him. He'd guide your head at his own choice of pace, and he loved filling your stomach with his seed as if that was all you needed to live off of.

He'd known somewhat about putting his mouth on you, but by the time he had wanted to try, you two were at war and there just wasn't a whole lot of places to figure out what he'd be doing properly, and he wasn't about to go asking whatever whores his soldiers hired, to ask how to taste his own wife. That, and Robb didn't want to make you feel nervous by introducing something so intimate, and so brand new to you so suddenly.

He desperately wanted too, but it was just something he didn't know quite how to bring up to you yet.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? Etc.)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Without ever having sex, pace wasn't exactly something Jon payed attention to. The rate in which your actual relationship developed was slow.

You had known each other for fourteen years, been together for six by the time you both wanted to try having sex, and even then you both realized neither of you were ready.

Everything he did with you was slow, he didn't rush, he didn't push, and he made sure everything he did do, was gentle. Exploring exactly what you liked, and making sure you felt loved when doing so. Something more of an urge in him sometimes whispered in his ear to go faster, or rougher with you but he could push that down easy. In your minds at the time, you both had all the time in the world.

If it all took a slow, loving pace to get there, then so be it. Or so you both once thought.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon tries to be gentle, he really does.

He often starts out slow. A loving gentleness rooted in how heavy you make his heart feel, but the more into it Jon gets, the more of something of a darker animal inside him does he let out.

He never contains himself the entire time, it's impossible. At some point, even if just right at the end, Jon will end up pounding his cock into you fast like a true wolf with his mate . Whatever dark, needy filth locked away in his head accidentally pours out in a deep husk in your ear beacuse he can't stop it.

Don't get him wrong, its passionate, intimate, and always ensuring you feel safe, loved and protected, but once Jon can hear how wet you are each time his cock sinks into you, its the beginning of the end. That's music to his ears, and he returns such a harmony right back. Fucking into you rough enough that anyone within 50 feet can probably hear how loud and rough of a slap Jons hips rutting into yours becomes. If the slap of your skin together echos in his ears, hes likely already too deep into the darker part of his mind to slow down.

He would never push you too far, never once. But Jon is unpredictable. He can start slow, sliding his cock almost all the way out before pushing himself back in as deep as he can, all the while you feel every inch of him beacuse he's just going that slow. But eventually, he picks up the roughness, and right near his final orgasm, that slap of skin becomes a steady smack as he rushes himself towards being able to cum one last time deep inside you.

But Jon knows his limits, and he is always hyper aware of how close he's getting to pushing you to yours and never once in his life will Jon ever actually cross that line. He'll get right up to it as close as can be, but never will he even slightly tip over into pushing you too much.

Robb Stark:

If there ever was a man who was a real wolf in the bedroom, it was Robb.

Slow was saved for when he used his fingers on you, and that was it. As soon as that man gets his cock inside of you, it's done. He is fucking you rough and fast until you are soaking his cock around him in a desperate cry.

Hes slow when he's in your mouth, beacuse he knows that's something you both enjoy, and he doesn't want to hurt you by pushing you too far, but your cunt is another story. Robb will fuck you fast to the point you can barley catch your breathe before he's pounding back inside of you.

The slap of your skin together is telling of how rough he goes, and the men have sometimes joked they're shocked you can ride a horse the next day, let alone bloody walk. Sex with Robb is fast and dominating, and he is happy to slow down and take his time doing everything else with you, just not when your warm cunt is clenching around his cock.

He knows if he could take you home to Winterfell, he'd be much better. He'd take you slow, take his time with you, but you were both out at war and he didn't have the luxury no matter how much Robb wished he could take you gentle and slow.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

When Jon thought about in in retrospective, it might have been the perfect time for you two to have quickies.

Always in secret, never having as much time as you both deserved with the other. Were you two actually having sex, fucking you fast and quick would have been optimal. But as it stood, you never had sex. So you two never did anything even close to that.

But, in Winterfell? With his father, the household guard, Lady Catelyns judging eyes, and the varying rambunctious nature of Jons five siblings, having you quick like that would have been risky.

Someone would catch you. Anything you did had to wait until you knew you were alone. Hell, Jon once got a little too eager to gently kiss you one evening, and as it turned out, Arya had spotted you both in the stables, and that's how she found out. Jon trusted her not to tell, but he never took anything of that risk again.

In total private where he could take his time, or not at all.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

If you went to Jon right now and asked if he liked quickies, he'd say no. He would say he hates them. And that would be the biggest lie he's ever told in his life.

It's possible he was abusing his status as King in the North to do so, but if he were a little late to the meeting, no one was going to say anything. And he was far better at pretending everything was fine then you were, so if only Jon walked in, no one would know. Except Tormund. Somehow Tormund always could tell, and Jon would spend the next 20 minutes actively ignoring that prideful but amused glint in the mans eye.

But he loved quickies. Jon loved fucking you needing and fast. Finding an empty wall to shove you against, sinking deep inside you and overwhelming you in seconds to the point you were powerless to do anything but let Jon take you. The way you'd cling to him in those seconds after, knowing this was all you had for now when normally Jon would kiss and hold you tenderly. It just made you needier for that later.

He never would admit it, saying he only wanted you when he could take his proper time and care. But the amount of times Jons almost gotten you both caught, beacuse he desperately needed to fuck you out of nowhere, was starting to stack up quickly.

Robb Stark:

One man truly and honestly hates quickies with all his being, and his name is Robb Stark.

If he has to fuck you quick, he's not going to do it and that is without exaggeration, the end of that. Robb wants to take you apart, he wants to ruin you for hour and hours until you have nothing left but his cock inside you, and then he'll build you back up like the Queen you are. That takes time, and patience.

Robb almost gets more worked up the more he cums, he hates the idea of fucking you quick in the middle of the day. Robb has things to do, he can control himself long enough to just get over it if he wants you. Part of it goes hand in hand with not wanting anyone to see you or come close to catching you, since Robb has no shred of privacy to touch you outside the isolation of your tent at night.

You're the love of his life, he wants to make sure you never question that fact. He may whisper in your ear like you're a whore in a brothel, but he won't fuck you like one. Not like he's here to throw a copper at you, cum and then leave. He hates that idea, it doesn't even appeal to him.

Robb wants you proper, in a bed, where he can fuck you hard, and then show you how much he loves you. He can't do that if he just ruts inside of you like an animal, roughly against a wall in the middle of the day.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? Etc.)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Technically, Jons entire relationship with you was the risk. He was a bastard, you were a highborn girl and niece to King Robert of all people. You were supposed to be courted by men like Robb, not a bastard with nothing to offer you but his heart.

He didn't try any experimenting or risk taking in sexual terms beacuse you two didn't have that freedom. The risk, was what Jon already did.

The risk was that night in the pouring rain in the wolfswood. He was 18 and you were nearing 16, he and his brother would hunt you and Theon in the wolfswood and see who could make it until midnight without being caught by the two wolves who knew this land like the back of their hands.

It was close to the end, Theon had been caught and Robb had given up once the rain started, so it was only Jon and you left, and Jon had finally caught you. Grabbed you from behind and held you to his chest with a low rasp of his victory, teasing in your ear.

He didn't know at first if you understood why the air changed. You were younger and certainly more innocent then him, but you were suddenly nervous enough that Jon felt confident it wasn't just him anymore. You tried to run, escape the way the air between you two changed to something heavy you didn't understand, but Jon didn't want this to stop. If you left now, he may never be confident enough again. So he grabbed you once more, tossing your back against a tree to make you stop running. You were soaked from the rain, eyes so wide and bright with lips just slightly parted in confusion, and it was too much for him to hold back.

It was the biggest risk Jon ever took, but he moved quick. Cupping both of your cheeks and leaning down to press his lips to yours. But the fact that you arched right up into him? Kissed him back eagerly and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck?

Jon knew there was no risk of him getting caught being with you that could outweigh how much this one payed off that night.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Risks were half of what Jon took now. Risk this fight, risk that battle but none were more worrying then every risk he took with you.

At every turn since having you back, it felt as if something threw a new test between you at every opportunity. Put on question how much Jon could protect you, and too many times did he not know how to stop it.

But, if there was a solace, it was that risks were only not unwilling to be taken when it came to taking you. Neither had done much and Jon fantasized about more and at every turn, he was fairly certain you would want what he wanted. He worried about it, worried that he was too rough, was too demanding, his intentions too forward but each time you came back to him with as much eagerness as the first time.

He knew he was gaining advice from either the best or worse sources, as the free folk around him all spoke rather blatantly about the sexual things they had done. Some of which Jon barley heard of, most of which Jon knew you had never known existed. And it took some work to tell himself not to try everything, but he certainly thought about them. Would hear the men go on about it, and just as he wondered why do it if it wasn't good for the woman, he'd hear just that other side from them and suddenly Jon learned far more about ways in which he could take you that you might enjoy, then he ever imagined. And he was willing to do them all, as long as you liked the idea, and it didn't harm you?

Jon might never say that he wants those things, but if they came up between you, he'd want to do it in a heartbeat.

Robb Stark:

One may think Robb would be a risk taker considering the degree to which he can fuck you any and everyday with his dominating mind and desires. But in truth, he doesn't like to take risks with you. That scares him, no matter if it's innocent or sexual in nature.

You're his wife and he came so close to losing you the way the Lannisters murdered his father, should Ser Barristan Selmy not have helped you to escape Kings Landing.

Taking new risks with you, while can be fun to playfully bicker about when you are naked in his lap as he keeps his cock sunk deep with a silent hope he's helping his seed take, he rarely will introduce anything that would be considered one.

You both are at war, you fight by his side in battle, that's more risk then Robb ever wanted with you, and he won't do any more beyond what you two already have.

He wants you home in Winterfell, swollen with his child before the proper start of Winter, he doesn't want to risk you in anyway that delays that anymore. He knows it's a big paranoia considering how much you trust him with your body, but Robb knows what your limits are and what his limits are and he refuses to go beyond those in any capacity.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon didn't have much way of gauging what he'd be like with you, at least in that manner. Much of what you two had done could've taken of their time and wasn't too taxing on either of you.

He'd draw it out as much as he could for you, and on the nights he managed to be weak enough to have you perched on his lap in his bed, he wasn't really aware of the time which passed. Of course, the time that passed sometimes went well over two hours without realizing. Sometimes he'd cum, but he could keep going after, likely the most he had in one night with you was three, but again, it wasn't quite direct touch and he had no way of knowing what being inside you might be like.

On his own, where he'd have too much of you he missed and no way to see you? It depended on how worked up he was. If he was mostly just horny, he could look to a memory of you and not last long and be satisfied.

But on nights he really missed you, he'd take out a stashed article of clothing of yours that he kept close. Grey eyes drifting to a letter of yours, and trying to read it and hear your voice in his head. Bracing a hand on the stone wall near his window, and the other on his cock, Jon could keep himself that consistently worked up for at least an hour straight on those nights.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Whether it was always in him to be like this with you, or if something about returning to life changed aspects of himself, Jon didn't know. But he could last for longer and stay hard so much longer then most men.

Jon could cum four times in a row and still be as hard and desperate as before the first. As long as something of his cock was inside you, Jon seemed to be able to last as long as it took to wear you out. His cock having that aggressive drive to fill you until he was empty just so he could do it all over again the next night. Hours it would last.

That night in the Ice Cells of Castle Black, Jon had no concept of how long he had been fucking you, but it was certainly past the hour mark by the time he pressed your back into the floor.

Again, Jon knew there was something not normal about the degree of his stamina, judging by the fact that he could spend hours fucking you so much that you practically would pass out in his arms, and Jon still would lay you down under the furs of his bed, telling himself that he can't just take you when you're this sensitive and already falling asleep.

If you truly tested his resolve, Jon would start at sun down and still be taking you by sun up. He'd need good few rests of a couple moments in between, for you and him, but it wasn't as if he needed much recovery time. On a good night, Jon wouldn't even get anywhere less then still more then half hard when pulling out of you until you two were fully exhausted.

Robb Stark:

Gods be good, the more Robb cums, the longer he can go it seems. You'd think he actually gets more hard after each time he cums inside you.

He has to rest in between, normally beacuse he knows he is rough on you and he doesn't want to accidentally push you from sensitive to in pain, but once the dust has settled? He's ready to go and Robb will tell you to just lay there and take it like a good girl if you're too tired to do the work.

He's perfectly content with doing the heavy lifting in bed for you, doing the hard work beacuse this is nothing compared to the hell outside your tent.

There are some nights his men are fully aware neither their King nor Queen got a wink of sleep, beacuse the guards near his tent could hear you both all night without exaggeration. If something could magically give Robb more energy when it made no sense, Robb had found that magical source in sinking his cock deep inside you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon hadn't even gotten his cock inside you for the first time, he certainly wasn't about to let some pleasure toy get there before him.

He didn't really see the point as well, but he considered that maybe since he's a male, he might be unfairly overestimating the ease in which women would pleasure themselves. Men were a no brainer, but Jon had to take his time learning to fine tune your pleasure like a delicate instrument and toys might help in that capacity alone.

But he knew you didn't even realize such a thing existed, and he wasn't about to introduce that to you when he himself didn't like the idea.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Not a chance.

You had a significant amount of trauma behind you now, and thus you trusted Jon to take every step of the way to ensure you were safe and alright. Jon had no interest in using anything like a toy on you, he wanted to feel you, he wanted you to feel him.

Neither of you liked fucking in a way together with little physical contact and using a toy felt so lacking of intimacy. So lacking of passion. He couldn't gauge how you were feeling, or if you were close with a toy. Jon knew where you were at by the tiniest of clenches of your cunt around his cock or fingers and he'd never know with some toy inside you.

You wanted him, not something just used by him. And Jon wanted you, he wanted to feel you not just watch you get that feeling alone.

Robb Stark:

He wouldn't consider them toys, but he has tied you up before. Not much, just by the wrists but he wouldn't say that was a toy.

He knows what toys are out there and he dismisses that idea. What would something not real do for you that Robb couldn't give you himself in droves. He already has a cock that drives you insane, he has long fingers that reach your sensitive walls beyond what any toy could provide you.

Robb wants to tie you up more, blindfold you even but that was more of a, he wants you to trust him even more, sort of thing, rather then he wants to get wild with what he fucks you with. He wants what he introduces into sex to be a tool to help make the sex more pleasurable for you, not something to act as the sex itself without him.

Robb recalled once asking Theon what the point of them was, and having a good laugh between them that it's probably just what some Southerners invented beacuse their too boring with small cocks to actually pleasure a woman with what they barley have themselves.

And judging by how much you are utterly weak for Robbs touch, he would consider that to be likely more true then not.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon had to be subtle about it, but he was relentless.

Knew the exact look to give you to make you stiffen up and hide how flustered you could get. Knew just how briefly of a touch of his hand across your lower back as he passed in public to make your breathe hitch. Jon of course, also teased you just in words. He was quite good at teasing you at all stages of your friendship together but he was sadistic once you were were involved.

Some teasing was normal, others sounded more biting and mean to people around when you knew he was just trying to get you worked up. Get you annoyed, so that he could feel you melt against him later when he finally kissed you at your most irritated at him, and tease more that you were quite predictable.

This passed to touch as well, the first time he pleasured you was simple. A nice, exploration of his fingers on your clit as he worked out what you liked best, and just as he payed attention to what it is you about to cum looked and sounded like, did he pull away. Then he worked you up and did it again as you almost whined.

He loved it, he loved keeping you on an edge that had you not being able to do anything but rely on his touch, before he took it away at the perfect moment.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Gods be good, he is one of the seven hells sent directly to torment you. Jon no longer has to be subtle or secret, he can just tease you. It doesn't matter.

He doesn't act that way in public, no. But he doesn't need to hide his wants, desires, intentions. No, Jon can work you up in seconds and just keep you dangling over a free fall all day long. It's in his words, they aren't filthy, but they are needy. He wants you and he tells you, but he won't take you. He saves it, and torments you with his own patience.

He some days, won't let you cum. Gets you right there, and takes it away. Sometimes more then once in a row, and many times, he will keep you like that for days. Some times he teases you all the same the next night, sometimes Jon takes your orgasm away at the last minute in one overwhelming night and will just leave you like that for a week.

He loves it. He loves keeping you that way, keeping you needy for him, that the second his voice rasps low in your ear, you shiver for him.

If teasing you in and out of the bedroom could be a feat worth crowning one of, Jon would've been a King months earlier.

Robb Stark:

Robb wishes he had the patience to tease you, he does. But he doesn't.

He does it in small doses, will yank you to him and whisper that he wants you naked in his bed when he returns or that he expects his good girl to show her king her appreciation later that night. But it doesn't tease beyond that really.

He prefers to take his time with you, and teasing you like that doesn't really fit into that mindset for Robb. If he wants you, he wants you then so why would he tease you for later? Part of it stems from how much you are by his side. Robb constantly has you beside him, often with a hand on you somewhere. Leaving a kiss to your hair, or a gentle kiss as he runs his thumb along your cheek in front of his men beacuse he needs you to breathe more then the air around him.

Robb doesn't want to tease you more then the little bit he does, he just wants you. And out in a war, there isn't a worse place he could think of to be a tease. He will work you up as much as it takes for you to know he wants you in his tent that night before it got too late to take care of you, but he has no patience for teasing beyond that. He already has you, he doesn't want to waste that time.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

If he and you are in the castle in Winterfell? Jon tries his best to be very quiet. He wasn't loud, more of a growl or a hiss at the sensation.

But sometimes a deep gutted groan could leave him, and that certainly was not common enough of a sound from Jon to pretend it wasn't for something filthy.

He had one trick though once he and you got comfortable enough. Jon would yank down the front of your dress, usually pulling your arms from it or unclasping it enough so it pooled around your waist, and occupy his growls or grunts with his mouth on your breasts. It was the most perverse thing the two of you would do, but it kept Jon quiet, while his other hand honestly? Well if his mouth wasn't hiding your high pitched, beautiful gasps and whines in his kiss, he'd reach a free hand up and roughly cover your mouth as you grasped at his wrist with both hands. Burying in each other to hide the sounds of your sinful secret together.

If you two were out in the wolfswood alone, it was a bit easier. Jon would let himself rumble deep, and freely encourage your breathless gasps with a gentle press of his lips over your cheek, forehead, neck, whatever he could reach.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Take that growling and grunting, and multiply it by a hundred. Jon once more, knows he no longer has any need to hide what you two do. No one cares that he has you in his bed, and so no one who could even hear through the thick stone walls that muffled much noise, would think twice.

They knew you two were together, it didn't matter now.

Jon could growl and hiss as you clenched tight and soaked around his cock, bite at your neck until he could rasp deep and strained in your ear, as he spoke the first things on his mind usually much more needy and filthy then he intended.

If he was trying to be discreet, he would bury his mouth into your neck with kisses, licks, bites, sucking rough bruises into the skin and it would cover the deep noises from within. But in turn it made you gasp and cry for him so loudly that everyone would hear anyways.

Jon wasn't really a talker, not with sex especially. The closer his orgasm got the more his heart rambled, but it wasn't intentional. He spoke from his deep desire for you with raw intense honesty. All in between rough breathing to keep him collected, only to feel that hiss or growl in his chest at how beautiful you felt around him.

If no one heard you two in low tones though, many would simply be able to hear the smack of skin as he fucked into you rough, or the hard bang of a table slamming against a wall, if he took you somewhere more public.

Robb Stark:

At the most dense, Robb has had an army camp of almost thirty thousand men at the start of the war, when he had joined with the River Lords. If someone had told him that all thirty thousand men had heard Robb and you fucking at night, he'd smirk with pride and say he hopes they got off nice and hard to how perfect you begged and pleaded for your Kings cock.

Robb is a talker in bed, he runs his mouth as filth pours out. In return, you cry and moan and beg for him, and it all is a harmony of filth that he knows so many men by now have heard from you and him.

Robb doesn't moan, he growls and he groans rough when he's deep inside of you, his voice normally warm and soothing dropping to a strained roughness that scratches at your ears as much as it soaks you between your legs as well. Robb knows just what to say to make you an obedient little mate, and he takes full advantage of that the entire night.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Jon Snow:

If the only thing Jon was allowed to do for the rest of his life was kiss you, he'd never have a single thing to complain about. Last life or this one, Jon was addicted to your lips.

The way they were so soft, moulded to his perfectly, how sweet they tasted and how much you let his tongue explore your mouth with strong desire. He adored having his lips on you somehow, and the only thing that changed one he came back was he could now do it without fear of being caught. But the love for it stayed the same.

Kissing foreheads was something he always did with everyone, his brothers and sisters and you, but what was different is how rare it was that he gave you any passing kiss alone. A brush of his hand, lingering too long and getting too close to your lips when he pulled back.

To Jon, kissing you is practically a hobby. He finds his lips to you in some way constantly, and if he's inside you then he adores keeping your lips pressed to his. He loves to cum deep inside you, keeping your lips trapped against his kiss. Jon wishes to hear your moans, and swallow them into his own mouth, just so he can lick into yours and demand more sounds gifted into him.

If Jon would be able to say he has one talent, he was confident enough to say he's quite a good kisser. And he wants all of that to go to none but you. Jon kisses you more, then an entire brothel of whores will kiss all their paying men in their entire lives.

Robb Stark:

Telling you now would be so unfair, he knew. If he said it now, the man wasn't there to defend himself or refute it, and beacuse of that, he didn't want such a comment to change your view of your best friend.

But Robb was not stupid. Robb was more observant then he was likely given credit for on this one, but it didn't bother him so he didn't bring it up to a soul, not him, and definitely not you.

He didn't know the true extend of how strong it was, or if he had feelings, or for how long he felt this way. Robb didn't know those details, but he knew without any doubt, that in one way or another, Jon Snow wanted you.

He had suspected it for a while since your last visit. The way Jon would look at you, was so much more then the man thought he was giving off. He was so brooding and grouchy the month before you arrived with the Kings company, and Robb truly felt bad. Here Jon was, desperately wanting to fuck you, his best friend, only to now watch you get married to Robb.

But now, Jon was at the wall, and you were Robbs wife. Telling you now would just be rude, and a breach of trust that Jon didn't know Robb had been holding onto. But the real thing that he wasn't saying, was that if for some miracle, Robb won the war, and brought you home to Winterfell, he had seriously considered it.

Either Robb would get lucky enough to find a way to bring his brother home where he belongs, or Jon would simply come visit, the way their Uncle Benjen came to visit their father. There was no harm, you were Robbs wife after all, that wasn't breaking a vow.

But Robb couldn't help but wonder, if he could at the least get Jon to come visit from the wall, he wondered how easy it would be to convince his brother to fuck you. Now, Robb wasn't just handing you over to his brother, but just maybe, Robb wondered, Jon might be open to sharing at least some parts of you, if just your body.

Robb held out hope he could bring you home one day, and just maybe, find enough in his jealous heart to share at least something of you with Jon. He was at the wall after all, and you were his best friend.

It wouldn't be much, but maybe the wall would be a little less lonely for his brother, if Jon were to go back with the freedom to know what it felt like to slide his cock into his best friend's sweet, soaking cunt, and more perversely, how it felt to willingly fuck his brothers wife.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Jon Snow:

Jon had an ongoing joke with Tormund, just taking any opportunity the free folk could find to make some comment about how small Jon was.

It had stemmed from a nickname which Tormund called him all of his own choosing anyways. The tall, lumbering man with wild orange hair, thick beard and loomed over most. He would joke and call Jon "Little Crow", and that turned right into jokes about his size. But in honesty, that was the furthest from the truth.

He didn't quite realize at first if he was well endowed, Jon having little to no interactions that would end up at discussing cock size, all he knew was the nights he'd help guide your clothed self over his covered cock, at his most hard Jon knew he would sometimes feel you shake, hold tightly onto his shoulders and try to hide the nervous exhale at the feeling. Well, if the free folk were anything, it was not shy about that sort of aspect of them. Only realizing internally that there weren't quite many who matched up to him.

He was long, yes. And it showed even when he wasn't at all hard, how long he was. But it was how thick his cock was that was the intimidating factor, at least in terms of fucking you. His cock was long, but adding just how shockingly thick his girth was, he always left a stinging burn when he slid inside you.

Jon was just lucky that you craved that very feeling as much as he wanted to give it to you.

Robb Stark:

Robb has a distinct memory of when he had sex for the first time, how the girl afterwards when getting dressed, made a comment that for someone whose never been inside a woman before, Robb knew how to use a cock like that.

At the time Robb just wanted to put his clothes on and leave, but she then kept going. Saying that most men with a big cock were idiots, and that Robb fucked like a man who was compensating for a small one but without the small part. He didn't care about that until he married you. Then suddenly, Robb was all too aware that yes, he was well endowed and knew how to fuck.

Because now you were his little innocent wife about to take her first cock, and it was long and thick. He had kept your eyes on his when he finally undressed so you didn't get intimidated, only to then make you watch as he slid inside you for the first time, so you understood how much you were taking inside you.

He knew you would feel that sting the next day constantly from his size, but that just meant Robb knew he needed to work you up and make you wet as could be to reduce the chance of his thick cock hurting rather then being a perfect pleasurable amount of pain.

Though, Robb would admit, he got off way too much at how wide his cock stretched your pretty mouth when you sucked him.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Sex wasn't something he thought of all too often. Honestly, most of Jons sex drive in those days were also tied simply with how much he missed you.

He felt more worked up about being with you when you were in Kings Landing and he couldn't do a single thing about that. He never told you just how often he'd read your newest letter to him, sitting it on his desk, bracing one hand against the stone wall in front of him and stroking his cock with the other as he read it. Trying to hear your voice, pretend as if he knew what your hands on his cock would feel like, pretend he had any clue what being inside you could feel like.

He ruined a few of your letters with that habit, not that he ever said it to you. But it was just something desperate really. He felt lonely without you.

When you were in Winterfell, he wasn't that worked up. He knew his time with you had to be careful, and you two would enjoy the other to the fullest when you got away alone. But when you were gone, you weren't just the woman he loved. You were his best friend, and being in love with your best friend meant that a lot of how much he just missed you, ended up tying itself into how much he yearned to touch you.

You were so much more then just a woman he wanted to touch, but when you weren't there to calm him down with your mere comforting presence, Jon had no outlet but that.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

If putting gold on it, Jon would say he doesn't have a high sex drive. And if he did bet on it, he would wind up being the poorest man in all the Seven Kingdoms.

It wasn't out of control, Jon had a strong drive and focus as a leader, but he could take you any time of the day. He didn't ever not want you. Jon could control his want when he needed to, and that was easy but the moment he could find any excuse to take advantage of your alone time, Jon felt his need clawing at his chest like an animal desperate to rut.

He fucked you quick during the day all the time, beacuse he was always just that ready to take you, always wanted you even when he was skilled at never showing it. He didn't want you thinking he just wanted to fuck you like an object, you weren't a whore in a brothel he wanted to use.

Jon absolutely adores you, but both your pasts have made sex something a bit strangely tied to how Jon shows he loves you. A lot of sexual trauma sat between you two, you from Ramsay, Jon from Ygritte but together you and him were learning to move forward and find a healing together. That just meant learning that Jon was a wolf with a ridiculously large appetite, but it was always with love.

He didn't want to be without you, and sometimes the only way Jon, a brooding, stoic man of not many words, knew how to express that was to taste you, kiss you, and fuck you. It was a way to express his feelings as well as move together past something that still deeply haunted you both in your own ways.

But if you asked him, Jon would say he doesn't have a high sex drive, and Tormund and Theon who have to stand there and watch how ridiculously turned on Jon would get around you constantly, would just glance at the other with an exasperated shake of their heads at Jons degree of denial.

Robb Stark:

It was a bit complicated, essentially, Robb only had much of a sex drive when he knew he had time.

First leading a war, then becoming their King and having so much of the Lannister regime fighting against him alone that he had to split his mind into two. If he was thinking about the war, he didn't want to distract himself, and you were a perfect Queen by his side and knew exactly when Robb wanted to focus.

But then at night, when it was quiet and Robb could have you all to himself, then he suddenly felt that drive come crashing through the walls of his tent and bombard him. Once alone, you worked Robb up to wanting to fuck you in seconds. You just had to look at him alone in your tent and Robb was already almost fully hard, you made it so easy.

Sun down to sun up, Robb wanted you again and again and he could think of nowhere else he wanted to be then with you, and inside of you. You were his perfect girl, and your drive matched his perfectly too. You always wanted each other at the same time, so once Robb wanted to fuck, you were ready to hand yourself over to his cock and his mercy or lack there of, depending on the day.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon never slept very well. Always would either wake up and be unable to go back to sleep, or he couldn't fall asleep in the first place. And in truth, it left a lot of nights where all Jon wanted to do, was leave his room, go down the stairs to the corridors your room was in, and find his way into laying in bed with you. He'd imagine how gently he'd crawl in beside you, gently guiding you onto your side so he could pull your back against his chest and hold you tight.

But he couldn't do that, no matter what you two did, sexual or otherwise, as soon as you and Jon were with the other, falling asleep in the others bed was a bad idea. You or him would gravitate into the others gentle embrace fast asleep too unplatonically to explain it away should one of his siblings walk in.

Which Jon hated, considering during your first visit to Winterfell, you sometimes had difficult nights you couldn't sleep or a windy storm would blow through the castle and more then once you'd find your way to Jons room asking if it was alright if you slept in there, you feeling a bit nervous being in that corridor all alone.

So now, Jon would spend his nights with you, exploring you, kissing you and he'd have to part ways to sleep separately and he never slept more then 5 hours at the most after that. He missed having you close too much.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon still didn't sleep well if you weren't there.

His bed too cold, his arms with nothing to pull tenderly into his chest, he couldn't lean over and press a tender kiss to your sleeping lips beacuse you were too beautiful to resist. He wanted you in his arms at night.

But when you two would fuck, Jon willingly didn't sleep for a while after as well. He'd run his hands gentle along you until you fell asleep, then he'd switch between watching you in more peace then you ever looked in your waking hours, or running his hands along your bare skin beacuse he loved how soft you were under his rough, large hands. On nights he wore you out particularly rough, you'd fall asleep so easily and he loved doing that for you.

You had nightmares now, more then you were ever willing to admit, and the more exhausted Jon made you with his cock, the better you slept after. And Jon liked to hold you, watch you sleep and ensure he was keeping you safe even now from the horrors in your own mind. And only when you had been quiet and peaceful for a good half hour to an hour, would Jon finally fall asleep.

You were the most vulnerable when you slept in his arms, and Jon was there to protect you. And he just liked staying awake to do that, getting some time to himself to admire you blatantly without you getting flustered over his loving gaze for so long.

Robb Stark:

Robb only slept well with you twice since marrying you.

Both of those times when you were in his bed in Winterfell after becoming his wife. Robbs room was decorative and the fabrics draped around kept the heat in well so it was always cozy in there, and under the furs of his bed. Robb never treasured a nights sleep more then the only two times so far he had in his bed with you as his wife.

He slept terribly in the war. Some nights he was so busy you couldn't even convince him to come and sleep at all, and you'd have to try again the next night. So when it was all said and done, Robb would lay with you asleep in his arms and be awake for a while. Longer then he was honest with you about.

He'd run through war strategy day after day, and at night try and piece together the life he wanted to bring you home to once this was all over. You didn't sleep well either, but as long as Robb fucked you, you slept better then he did and so he'd do it every night if it were that easy. When he did sleep, it was more what he wanted, being in bed with you in his arms, but Robb never got as much sleep as he would have, should he be able to bring you home safely to Winterfell.

[pursuitseternal]

“Master me:” the Sub!Ascended Astarion x F!Reader fic of your nsfw dreams, update to “The Rogue You Were”

Ascended Astarion x F!Reader | E | 5.1 K of Sub!Vampire Lord

Summary: It’s all yours, the power, the wealth. But your Vampire Lord wishes to give you something he’s never given willingly before… his submission.

CW: NSFW, Dom/Sub Dynamics, soft!dom for his trauma healing, ThroneSex ™️, body worship, oral s3x, orgasm denial, orgasm control, “only come when you’re told,” begging, pleading, whimpering Astarion, praise kink…

Read here if you prefer AO3

For @marimosalad and @anaisbaillon

Continue and accept the gift of his submission…

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

He has summoned you, his lady, his bride, his beloved. The right hand and consort to the Vampire Lord. Of course, you didn’t come right away when the servant knocked on your door. He had been attending business all day. So many deals and promises and threats and examples to be made, he’s been attending from his throne all day. Yes. He held his court from his magnificent chair, staring down from his mighty gilded seat of power, glaring with vermillion eyes at anyone who entered the presence of the Ascendant Lord.

Now he calls for you, after hours behind closed doors. You give it… a little time. Not so much as to try his patience, but enough that you don’t go running into his arms in front of all of Baldur’s Gate. A delicate balance, one you can excuse by flouncing your dress, changing the jewels around your neck. You settled on something dark and sheer and elegant, nearly see-through in places, enough to catch the eye and make the mouth water.

Make his mouth water. That’s all you cared for anyway.

Leaving your chambers, you sweep through the halls, every servant, every guest, or Patriar, or merchant in your palace stops to bow and curtesy. Careful not to disrespect you. For you are his.

You arrive at last to the large, thick doors to his great hall. You can feel his eyes on you before you even turn the corner and breach the room. Astarion sits, reclined. Bored. Distant. But the moment you sweep into his presence, he claps his hands.

Silence falls on the crowd. “Leave,” he hisses quietly. It slices through the din. People retreat in an instant. They cleave around you, separating around where you stand just inside the grand chamber, distances away from your lover, enthroned, and yet you can almost feel his breath on your skin. Even from here.

It takes but a moment for you to finally be alone. His eyes rake over you, his back reclining in his throne, his knee crossed over his leg. But his gaze is only on you. He crooks a finger at you as the doors close, pushed by his magic and sealed by his power.

It is just him now. And he wants you to come… closer.

You obey, feeling more than seeing as his smirk curls his lips and skews his brows. One step, then another, you climb the dais. Then, you stop. Waiting. Eyes locked into one another, his breathing is rapid and shallow. And you furrow, sensing something swirling beneath that cold exterior. You see it then, a slight tweak at the corner of his eyes, a clench of his jaw. And then he lets out a muffled, half-swallowed sob.

“Everything, my love, it’s all ours. Sovereigns of Baldur’s Gate. King and queen in all but name…” his chest shakes. His eyes, wide and wet, look up at you. “It feels… wonderful… horrible… I- I don’t know…”

Without another thought, you hurry to his side, wrapping your arms around his head, cradling him into your breast. His tears are wet on your chest. You can almost feel it, that facade of his power and callous attitude crumbling in your arms. He takes a breath, inhaling your scent, his arms clutching hard around your waist.

“I thought you wouldn’t come, when you were late. For a moment… I thought you had…” he swallows the rest of his fears.

“I would never leave you,” you whisper, warming your words with all the feeling in your heart, running your hand through those silken, silver, unruly curls.

“I… I want to give you something, my love,” he steadies his voice, pulling back from your embrace, arms tugging you into his lap.

“Name it, and I will gladly accept, Astarion,” you smile, gently, settling yourself on the spread of his thighs.

“I want…” he swallows again, his face so close to yours. Haunted, troubled. Something is gnawing at him. “I want to give you everything…”

“You already have,” you smile sweetly, palming his cheek.

“No,” he shakes his head, “I don’t mean…” he clears his throat, eyes scanning the room around you as the shadows begin to lengthen, the colors of sunset pouring in through the arched and vaulted windows. “I… we have won. I have power; influence, riches, comfort…” his brow arches a bit rakishly, “…love. I have everything that Cazador deprived me of for centuries. More than he ever did. I am the most powerful vampire in the realms.”

You pause. Waiting. Watching those eyes flickering with the embers of his power. His voice rings with his pride, those traces of shattered confidence evaporated. But then he looks square in your eyes again.

And all that pride and power disappear.

“And I want you to have me submit to you, my love,” he breathed, his voice hissing between his teeth. As if he is in pain. In agony. “I want to give you my submission.”

“Submit to me?” you drop your hand from his face, letting it rest on his chest.

“You are the one thing that grounds me, you know, that pulls me back from becoming a… the very thing I once feared. I want… I want to give you… everything,” he leans in to place a shaking, hesitant kiss on your lips, “I want to grant you even this favor, darling.”

“If you wish,” you reply, tapping your hand on his heaving chest. “I do not require it of you.”

“I know,” he smiles so, so slightly, “that’s why I can give it to you. That's why I can… trust you.”

Your breath catches. The need in his eyes bores into you. He’s waiting. Waiting for you. For your command. “Very well, if it would please you.”

“Greatly, but you’ll have to be harsher than that to make me submit.” He flashes his teeth, a bit of that wicked, cheeky flare you know and love in him.

“I don’t want to be too harsh, I don’t want to hurt you…” you bite your lip, careful how you mention your worry. You can almost hear the ghosts of Cazador’s voice from… you shudder to remember.

He purses his lips, thinking. “Don’t call me boy, or belittle me, don’t starve me, just be the decent person I know and love, and I’m sure this will be pleasurable for both of us…”

You nod, gently. “Then kneel,” you whisper. Sweetly. Too sweetly. He raises a brow at your tone.

“No,” he pushes, that irascible smirk teasing and twitching the corner of his mouth.

You fight the foolish grin that your mouth aches to show. But you keep yourself stern. Commanding. “On… your… knees… Astarion,” you order, warmth in your voice even as you bite at your words.

He moves you by your waist, reverently sliding you off his lap to make his way to the steps of the dais.

“Too far, my love,” you chuckle, savoring his quick little turn as you settle yourself in his throne. “There…” you give a sigh for affect, nestling yourself in the gilded confines of this chair, running your fingers over the gold filigree arms. “Kneel at my feet, lover, and take that doublet off while you’re at it. It’s far too expensive to be ruined by the things I am about to have you do….”

Oh, how he obeys. Shivering and shuddering in delight. A coy, contented smile on his face as he slinks off the heavy- embroidered jacket to leave in a pile on his floor.

Slowly, he sinks to his knees at the top of the dais, close to you. So close, you can see his nostrils flare with every breath, you can watch the muscles of his bare chest clenching as he sits back on his heels. He places his palms on his thighs, one on each, eyes looking right into yours.

Waiting. And eager.

You smile, ready to lavish him with praise. “What a good darling,” you purr. “Quite the sight, the most powerful vampire in all the realms… kneeling before me. It can make a consort quite heated…” you fan your face. “Perhaps I need to remove some of these trappings,” you pluck the black fabric between your fingers. Slowly, you slink the hem of your dress higher. Higher. His crimson eyes darting to watch your unfolding display.

“Might I be of… assistance?” He offers, honeyed tone even as he remains perfectly still.

A laugh leaks from your throat. “You may, only, don’t touch my skin just yet, Astarion. Soon you can, but not… now…”

You watch him rise slowly, licking his lips as you lean forward in the throne. His hands are slow, reverent as they catch up your hair to part it over one shoulder. The lacings at the back of your dress bared for him to attend. It’s deliberate, filled with care, his long fingers deftly pulling the bindings out, lace by lace. His touch is heavy, making certain you feel his every ministration through the fabric of your dress. His hands skate lower, ghosting over the silk to your waist, bunching the fabric to reveal your skin, to expose your shoulders and arms.

You turn your head to look at him, rising to your feet. “Finish the job, my love,” you order, keeping that edge to your voice. Hand raising to his cheek, you caress him, softly, slowly, running your hand down the column of his neck to press on his shoulder. He smiles at your touch, slinking back to his knees… looking up into your face as his hands ruck your skirts in his fists. Pulling, shimmying your skirts to reveal the bare pale flesh of your belly, your thighs.

You step from the puddle of fabric at your feet, closing right into the distance between you where he kneels. Your hands bury in his hair, pressing his eager face into your embrace. His lips caress you, sucking and licking into the soft center of your stomach. His voice hums low, reverberating into your flesh. “Such a reward for so little,” he whispers against your skin, “you can push me harder than that, darling…”

“Really…?” You purr, canting a brow, mischief rising within you. “You just be sure, my love to say when it is too much.”

“Like too much sugar in my tea, I’ll say when, I promise,” he chuckles, slow and languorous, his face creeping lower and lower until his tongue barely laps between your folds. His breath stirring in the soft curls of your mound.

“Then, darling, you can touch,” you step away, seating yourself back in his throne. The velvet lining cushions your bare skin, the metal cold and shocking to the touch. But you recline, the same posture he had assumed at your arrival. “Come and give me your worship, my love,” you toss at him, hearing his steps slowly round on you. His eyes glow with hunger, his teeth glinting as he smiles. He laughs, eyeing you as your thighs part for him to give you more.

His hands rest upon the tops of your legs, settled on his heels before your seat.

“Tch, tch,” you tut at him, brushing his palms from your skin. “Your tongue alone, darling,” you smirk, watching your command making him fairly salivate. “Since you insist on using it, it seems,” you feign disgust, wiping the trails of his saliva from your belly.

He laughs, lowering his kisses to where your hand just touched. “Yes, my love,” he clasps his hands behind his back, glancing up with eyes of red fire, making certain you saw his obedience. “It would be my… pleasure,” he growls, nose pressing into where you ache. You gasp, the demanding dart of his tongue between your folds sending an instant curl of heat in your belly. Attentive, aggressive, he growls into your thighs, and you watch the muscles of his forearms clenching behind his back.

With every lick, he pushes hard, struggling to get just where he wants.

“Something the matter?” you coo, sliding your hips closer to the edge of the chair.

“You could be helpful and master me, you know darling? Give me a little to gain a lot…”

Your hand slips between your legs, fingers spreading yourself wide after a few caresses of your own fingers deep into your channel. You hear his breathing heavy in his chest, watching every muscle in his body wind tight like a spring.

A predator who would love nothing more than to pounce and devour you to his satisfaction. But you pat him on the head, throwing one leg over the cool metal arm of the seat.

“Better?” you dare, your answer is nothing more than his tongue diving with all his hunger deep into your channel, lapping and circling your clit, fangs catching the edges of your folds. You feel it creeping up with each pass and swirl of his tongue. So close, that wave of heat. You can hear his voice rasping, breath heavy as he works inside you. “Touch me,” you order. “Do it, Astarion.”

Released, his hands are on you, everywhere all at once. His fingers claw into your sides, tugging your hips closer. You slide on the velvet aimed right for his hungry, devouring mouth. Long, strong, his fingers delve hard and fast into you as he sucks on your clit. He groans to feel you tighten on his hand, to feel your juices flowing, your back arching and hips bucking on the seat of his throne.

Your hands fist into his hair, pushing him away as he insists on lapping you through the very last wave of your orgasm. He trails his drenched tongue to the delicate inside of your thigh, tracing a circle over the spot he loves most. “Just a bite, darling? May I have some reward?”

“Just a bite,” you pant, still easing down from the writhing muscles, warmth releasing through you.

His fangs pierce your thigh, a moment of pain, quickly masked as he slips his fingers into you again, crooking and stroking your channel.

“That’s enough I think, for now,” you hum, gripping gently into his hair to lift his face. “I said a bite and just a bite it will be.”

He bares his teeth at you, the points of his fangs barely dipped in red. “Darling…” he pushes, voice barely more than a growl.

“Just for now…” you softly stroke his cheek, running the pad of your thumb over his trembling lower lip as he sneers. “Just until you make me come again…”

His lips sneer wider, twisting into a barely contained feral smirk. “As you wish,” he croons, “may I use all the… tools at hand?” His eyes glance down his own body, his hips shoving against the bottom of the chair.

You tilt your head, feigning consideration. “Not yet,” you sigh. “But you may kiss me, my love.”

The last thing you see before he pounces on you is that smirk that makes your heart rap against your ribs and sucks your breath from your lungs at its beauty. His knee shoves in beside you, his lips dancing and plying yours. The tip of his tongue darts between your lips, salt and tang from your blood, your cum, a heady concoction as he tangles it with yours.

One hand claws into your neck, trapping you, pinning you to his ravenous mouth.

Those fingers conjure magic inside you. Twisting and thrusting, sweeping through every ridge inside you just the way you like. It’s a dance, the darting of tongue timed in perfect rhythm with the pumping of his fingers and the scoring of his thumb on your clit. His humming, growling into your mouth. “Oh, so wet and tight, if only I could feel that same release…”

You smile into his kiss, your hand grazing lightly against the cool, clenching muscles of his chest. Stroking, scratching your nails down to the edge of his trousers, you barely brush over where his erection stretches against the straining fabric. Those hips buck into your palm, making you press against as much of his length as you can hold. He grinds into you, his breath heavier than ever, you can almost feel his cock hardening, tightening, his every movement chasing his own release. You ease your fingers away, stroking just a single finger over the edge of his waistband, feeling the soft skin of his seeping head bursting out the top.

“Me first, darling,” you breathe between his fangs. “Then, you’ll have to choose…” you graze your hand down your neck, “…feed…” You grab that bulging cock, gripping it between your thumb and finger to run hard over. He grunts, fingers stilling inside you at the delicious, painful pleasure, “…or fuck, my love.”

“But first,” he hums, fingers renewed as he lightly tugs you clit, “you come.” It isn’t an observation. It’s an order. He pinches you, hand gripped into your neck, holding you fast as you do rip in two, rent apart to shatter in his hand.

You gasp, panting, trying to strain and arch as you writhe in exquisite bliss. His hand stays you, pressing you to his shoulder, savoring the way you clutch your hands around his side, letting you shudder and clench until you are still at last. His breath rattles in your ear, for as relaxed and limp as you feel, his body writhes with his fervent need, bound and cramping with his unsated hunger. “Is it… my turn?” he hisses, teeth already scraping your neck, hands pawing your hair back to reveal that pale flesh he craves.

“Say please,” you give a single laugh, one you swallow the instant you feel his hands raking up your body, palming your breasts and plucking your straining nipples.

He swirls his tongue, bringing your breast into his mouth, one hard suck makes you instantly flush and writhing again. “Please,” he purrs around your nipple. Fire floods your veins, his lips and hands kneading you, molding you as he waits for your command.

All you can do is clutch your hands into those locks, cradling him softly, moaning your assent. “Yes, my good, good darling, yes.” You tilt your head again, waiting for his fangs to mark you, to claim his well-earned reward.

But the second you feel his low-throated chuckle on the top of your breast, you gasp, your breath burning in your lungs. Fangs slice into the sensitive softness, his fingers plucking and twirling your nipples even as he feeds from the blood that runs down into the valley of your chest.

He laps at you, greedily, famished, growling with little noises as he drinks from you, his consort. His love.

But you feel that power begin to shift, that possessive edge crawling under his skin with every suck of his lips and every clasp of his fingers around the fullness he caresses.

“Enough,” you whimper, hands pushing at the broadness of his shoulders. He resists, another long suck on your breast, licking at the blood that bathes it. “Don’t be greedy,” you hiss, finally getting him to raise his face from your skin, his eyes glowing, insufferable and provoking as he licks his bloodied lips with a smile.

“Yes… my treasure,” he fights to reply, struggling to find that restraint. You can see him gritting his teeth, concentrating on moving his body off of yours. His eyes spark, barely bridled power almost tickling your skin, but he manages to stand before you. Before where you sit, naked on his throne. He lets the sight fill him, his chest rising and falling as he breathes in your scent.

“You’re so good,” you purr, slowly rising to your feet, feeling that surge of desire, of power swirling under his skin, as you stand just an inch away from him. “And if you stay good, I might even let you free this…” You clutch at his erection, palming it with a twisted smirk. Savoring the grunt he makes as you run that grip over his confined length. “Yes, that’s it, my sweet, sweet lover…” You stand on the tips of your toes, craning to whisper right in his ear. “How badly do you want to come, my love?”

“More than anything,” he growls, turning his face sharply towards you. “I’d give anything for you…”

“Anything is a lot, you know…” You smile, running your hand over his cock until you feel him shiver under your touch. That’s when the thrill hits you, the control, the power he has given you. It’s… intoxicating, that restraint he gives only for you. That trust he shares only in you. The weight of that responsibility sobers you for a moment, and you break, reaching for his neck encircled in your arms, pulling him down into your lips for a kiss. “And I’d give anything for you too,” you breathe into your hungry mouth.

“Not getting soft on me, are you?” he growls into your mouth, hips bucking into your waist. But the slight softness in his eyes makes your heart thrill, a look of total affection. Of love, swirling behind that veil of domineering power.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, not when you’re as hard as you are, my love,” you purr arching against his body. He’s rigid, careful. Watching your every little movement as he breathes heavily under your touch. You stroke him, that soft fabric of his breeches straining at the seams to be released. Fingers slowly draw the laces out, one by one, your nails dragging sharply over his skin, as inch by inch, you let out that straining cock. As inch by inch, he grows harder, more ravenous, under your featherlight, scoring touch. You finally let him out, making him shuffle off the rest of his clothing until he’s nothing but skin and fangs and a ravenous smirk before you.

“Sit,” you grip him by his arms, spinning his frame as you shove him into his own throne. His eyes flicker in delighted surprise, shifting his body in anticipation for yours to join him.

“Yes, darling,” he croons, giving his ass a clench that makes his cock twitch and pulse. And you can’t look away. You want this, so badly, your entire body trembles for him inside you, that heady concoction of your lust for him and his unwavering trust in you goes right to your head, and to your loins.

You calculate your every move, every sway of your hips, the way you let your hands caress your curves, tracing your fingers into your folds. And you savor that way he licks his lips, his eyes glossy with his need, his hands clenched into the arms of his throne. “You’re trying so hard to be good,” you purr, tossing your hair down your back, crossing to slowly straddle him. You wrap your hands around his length, so hard, pale marble beneath your fingers. You give it a slow stroke, his lips twitching as he gives a groan of pleasure. “You deserve some pleasure for all you’ve done for me,” you lean against his chest, catching his lips in a shallow kiss. “But you’ll have to ask me nicely before you come… darling.”

Astarion whimpers, his lips baring his fangs as you raise your folds above that seeping head of his. Letting your slick just barely graze over him. “Please,” he groans, a swiveling thrust of his hips into you, one you avoid as he tries to sheath into your wetness.

“Not yet,” you tutt, teasing that blunted tip over your clit as you moan, eyes shutting as you make yourself the perfect picture of reckless abandon. A swivel of your hips, a nibble of your lip, as you tear his cock between your thighs. So silken and so hard, you groan with each sweep of him you make down your seam, each tantilizingly shallow dip you give of it into the clenching walls of your channel.

“Darling,” he groans, thrusting up into you, claiming just a little more traction into your cunt, “please… can’t I at least touch you?”

His eyes are wide, hands still clutching at the golden filigree of his throne. You can see every muscle in his neck taught and straining, balancing on the edge of his submission and his overwhelming need to fuck you.

“You may,” you moan, cupping his cheek, “but remember… you only come when I say… darling…”

His brows tweak, pained, but his hands rake up your arms, ghosting over your shoulders to cup your breasts. Even where your blood is drying yet.

You moan, the little teasing of his fingers making your honey drip even more over his shaft. It’s too much for you. So you sink onto that stiff and pulsing member. He bites his lip, clawing his fingers into your flesh, eyes half-lidded as he gives a muffled groan. His breathing is harsh. Unsteady. And you flash him a devious smile, just sitting on his lap, letting your belly stretch to fit that long length of his. “Shhh,” you wipe the sweat that’s formed on his pale brow, “wouldn’t want to have anything this sweet end so quickly.”

“Of course,” he pants. “Not when it’s so deliciously painful…” his brows furrow in agony.

“Oh, the pleasure will be…” you sigh heavily, “far greater than the pain…” his lips smirk as he hears his own words thrown back at him in your lustful voice. “Once I let you have that pleasure, of course…”

His hands tingle, featherlight as they skate up and and down your sides, he softly holds your arms, bringing them to his neck. Reverent, gentle, despite the inferno that rages behind his eyes. He places a kiss against your arm as you brace yourself on his shoulders. “Take your time, my treasure,” he groans as you treat him to a canting of your hips on his lap, “just don’t forget about me…”

“Never,” you groan, not at the way he fills you, but at how his arms wrap snugly around your waist. As if he can’t bring you any closer to him. You move, grinding up and down on him, riding that length as you look him square in the eyes. At how they glow, how they brim with unshed tears, so dilated and dark with his desire for you. At how the sweat begins to drip down his brows, his thin creases at the corners of his eyes deepening their grooves as he twists his face in relief. In the anticipation of his building pleasure.

But he barely blinks, that intensity boring into your soul. You bite your lips, riding the ridges of his cock through you, every sense of your body uniting with his as he gives you his everything. You can almost feel his ascended heart in his chest beating in yours.

Your fingers lock at the base of his neck, clawing into the silver tangles of his hair, even as it dampens with his sweat. You grind on him, keeping your pace agonizingly slow, his poor, neglected cock so hard and so thick, you know he’s not going to last long after what you’ve put him through.

But that only makes you smile harder, your breathing heavy between your grinning, slack lips.

“Hngf,” he groans as you give an extra hard slap of your cunt on him. “Please, my love,” he pants, nearly drooling with his unquenched lust. “You’ve had some fun…”

“Oh, just a little more,” you moan, “you wouldn’t deny me a little more fun, would you, my love?” You give a breathless laugh, reaching your hand around beneath you to grip those smooth, tight balls of his in your palm.

You feel him twitching inside you, his manhood in your palm so hard and tight. Ready to burst. After all, he has been good.

You look at his face, strained and red and sweating. You watch the way he can’t control his mouth, his tongue darting haphazardly over his teeth to lick his lips. His hips beneath you buck at random, hitching out of rhythm with how you ride his shaft. He has never been more handsome, your pleasure wave cresting at the mere sight of his unraveling.

“Please, please darling,” he’s panting, hand gripping so hard on your hips as you gyrate, you know he’s drawn blood. “You’re so good, so tight and wet. Please, let me come…”

You say nothing for a moment, letting your ears fill with the wet slap of your cunt on him. He begs you again, louder, his groans hurtling you into your own climax. You writhe. “Yes, darling,” you moan arching away from his chest. “Yes you may.”

His eyes go wide with your release, the centers so wide, so feral and unbridled. He shifts his ass to the edge, legs braced on the floor. Bouncing you, spearing you. Just that wild, growling, snapping desire is enough to shove you into orgasm. Every muscle grips around him deep inside you. You scream, pleasure tearing through you, but he doesn’t ease his pace.

No you’ve released him from his binds, set him free to fuck until he’s done. So you ride, you jounce, as he begins to hitch his pace. Arms clutch around your body, trapping you, supporting you as your own frame threatens to go limp in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Astarion careens into you. “Thank you,” he moans, over and over again. His breathing rasps, fast and hot in your ear. Deafening you. Overstimulating you, making your neck and spine twitch as he slams into you over again. With one last grunt, the loudest of all, he fills you, the heat of his cum spurting and slipping out from your folds. “Thank you, darling…” he rests his head on your shoulder, an edge within him easing, slipping away.

Dissipating.

Dulling.

And then you feel him breathe. You can feel his heart beating into you as he holds you so tight.

Nothing but his absolute love, his submission, a pulsing rhythm between you. “That was…” he sighs, his breath cascading down your front.

“Delicious?” you offer, stroking your fingers through the damp curls of his silver hair.

He looks up slowly, eyes soft, that same subtle smile that you would see from before, the one that would play around his lips when it was just you two in those fleeting moments on the road. Those moments that made you both who you were. Just you and your rogue. “Precisely,” he purrs, catching your lips delicately in a kiss. “So delicious, I’m sure I’ll need another sampling…”

His kiss turns on the edge of a knife, consuming, tearing. All fangs and tongue in your mouth.

“Tut, tut,” you press your hands against his chest. “If you insist, then at least let me take you somewhere more.. comfortable. Somewhere I might spread you out… tie you up, for once.”

“Oh, darling,” he pouts his swollen lips with a langurous lick, “how could I say no?”

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Thank you for the reblogs, likes, kudos, and comments 🥰. You are truly all darlings!

My Master List for more Astarion naughtiness

[thy-lover]

"YOU'LL LOVE ME IF I SAY YOU CAN" - Mortal Kombat Characters.

SUMMARY - Mortal Kombat Characters are Fuck Buddies with the Reader(Gender Neutral and Slightly a Villain) who is their ENEMY, In a Brief Moment of Clarity They Realize What They've Done....for the Millionth time

CHARACTERS - Shao Kahn, Johnny Cage, Scorpion, Sub-Zero, Noob Saibot, Jax, Kano, Baraka

WARNINGS - Minors Do Not Interact, Sexually Explicit Descriptions, Foul Language, Spousal Manipulation, What Could Be Considered as Phone Sex, Death Threats

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𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔬 𝔨𝔞𝔥𝔫 -

➺ There he sat, on the side of his bed with but a thin white blanket across his lap covering his Manhood. Scratches alongside his back, across his arms, as if he's been clawed at by a wild animal.

➺ Half Moon fingernail prints on the side of his thighs, and bites along his neck. A spent cock between his thighs.

➺ Maybe it was the Sex, maybe it was seeing you walk into the Palace without a care in the world. Spitting on his concubines knowing you could play the great Shao Kahn for a fuckin fiddle. Yeah, it was the sex.

➺ It was the Romanticization of spearing his cock into the enemy that prevented him from taking your head and placing it on a pike. It was the way you fucked him, you fucked him, that made him want more. You were wild, fighting him, testing his restraint, or perhaps encouraging no restraint whatsoever.

➺ Only You. A "Pathetic" Earthrealmer who was a part of the Special Forces and Part Time Leader of a Secret Organization that wished to demolish Outworld. Could make him cum like you did. Not Sindel, not anyone, no one could force him to cum over and over like you.

➺ He was Outworlds Protector...wasn't he? Could he fool himself into believing crawling on top of you every night and fucking you till he could fuck no more, was in a way saving Outworld by possibly preventing the inevitable? No, he couldn't. He could only do as the bad guy does and pretend like this was part of the plan. Like he was the one using you.

➺ Even more so, as you stood up from the bed and began to clean yourself of the cum dripping down your legs and chest. Every time you stood up to leave he could see his handiwork. A fair share of bruises that he gave you from such animalistic sex. With his cum he marked you, with the bruise around your neck he claimed you, with that bite mark on your shoulder you were his. Damn anyone from his council who stood against it, damn anyone who found out. You were not his dirty secret you were his trophy.

➺ You looked fucked in such a delicious way of the term. When you put your clothes on and rearranged your appearance you all but smirked at him in the reflection of his mirror. Shao Kahn would never admit pain. He couldn't, he could never allow himself to be hurt not by you not by anyone. But every time you entered his lair, you hurt him with every kiss, it hurt him, broke him harder than any sword any scratch could ever.

➺ "See ya tomorrow." You said walking over to Shao Kahn and kissing his cheek. "Don't come back." Shao Kahn said not moving to kiss you, how many times had he said that very phrase? "I do what I want. If you don't want me coming back here to fuck you, then I'll come back here to take your throne."

➺ "I loved you....I love you....I'll kill to have you, I'll konquer the world to keep you."

𝔧𝔬𝔥𝔫𝔫𝔶 𝔠𝔞𝔤𝔢 -

➺ Hollywood has always been known to do some sketchy shit but this took the cake. He had sex, or he was having sex or he's been having sex with the same asshole that wiped out half of the Special Forces and damn near killed his own Daughter.

➺ This is why Johnny is laying in this lousy motel room, in fuck knows where. Naked a cigarette hanging from his lips, shit he didn't even smoke! Laying in this bed his eyes subconsciously searching for a blanket to cover his Manhood but to no avail.

➺ Why you? How could you have this power over Johnny Cage? The man who was never that sensible but never in the right mind betrays his friends by sleeping with the enemy.

➺ Even if there were a blanket his mind was too busy forcing his eyes to look back at the doorway where you stood naked staring at your reflection and wiping his cum off your body before slowly getting dressed.

➺ sometimes Johnny wanted to know why he was even here, there wasn't even really a solid reason why every night he snuck around paparazzi, and lied to Cassie and everyone who ever cared for him about where he was going on every night.

➺ But every time he got an anonymous call on his cell and every time he answered and heard your beautiful voice, he would bite his lip, palm his cock through his pants and write down the address to the new hotel to meet at.

➺ All he knew was that when you push him against the door, kiss down his neck. When he grabs your hips. When you push him on the bed and ride him like you'd die tomorrow, was secretly what he lived for.

➺ You made him lose control, you made him bury his head in the pillows like a virgin who's never been fucked, and you made him howl so loud the people next door banged their fists against the wall.

➺ You leave the bathroom and stand next to Johnny, your hand trailing from his calf to his inner thigh, so terribly close to his spent cock that he was so close to being hard again "Buh-bye Johnny boy, I'll be seeing you." You teased. "When?" Johnny asked his head low in shame. Your hands squeezed his thigh, embedding your nails in the muscular flesh "Whenever I fuckin want to."

➺ "I need you....even if you can't be mine."

𝔰𝔠𝔬𝔯𝔭𝔦𝔬𝔫 -

➺ You were his wife's killer...well not exactly actually, you just helped Quan Chi. By selling out the whereabouts of his wife all for a pretty sack of gold which made you smile when Quan Chi handed it to you. You sat upon a hill, tossing the gold sack in your hand, watching the Shirai Ryu burn.

➺ You were supposed to be dead, as dead as his dead wife, he would have made sure of that. Scorpion would have bought front-row tickets to see you roasting in the Netherrealm, but that wasn't the case.

➺ Instead of watching life drain from your eyes, he watched you sit up on the Shikifuton, your lips swollen, your eyes weary and dark. Instead of seeing your skin burn by the Netherrealm flame, he watched your skin currently flush a light pink, you were nude, bare for him. And he was nude, bare for you.

➺ Every night he prayed that whatever elder god who cared for him would cover his dead wife's eyes so that when he joined her in the death, he would not have to experience Harumi's shameful gaze. So that his dead children would not turn their backs to their father.

➺ He wouldn't blame them if they did. How could he? He wouldn't feel so guilty if he had the strength to kill you. But to raise his hands to you would feel wrong....he would feel like he was hurting his lover. But you were not his lover so how could he feel guilty for killing you? There was no love when you entered his home every night.

➺ You did not come into his home to love or make love with him. You came to his home to fuck your brains out. To pin him down, to play with his cock till his cum coated his stomach. To engage in the dirtiest sex and do things Harumi dared not to.

➺ Even now as you stood up, your legs shaking ever so slightly, cum dripping down them, his cum. Every night after you had your fun, he wanted you on your stomach face buried in the pillows fucking you till he came in you more times than he could count. He fooled himself into believing if he did that he would have power over you, but he was wrong. His real purpose for doing that was to claim you as his, though that's what you let him think.

➺ How much lust could you get out of pleasure, before that lust and that pleasure turn to guilt and shame? How could he lie to himself and say that this was the way to gain power over you? Every time that he spilled his seed within you was a bitter deep betrayal to the Shirai Ryu.

➺ When you gave him a dissatisfied glance, not because you were displeased by his performance, as a matter of fact, he gets better at fucking you every night you come back, but dissatisfied because you could hear his thoughts. Not his thoughts about Harumi or his child, no you knew about that so fuck that noise, no you're talking about the thoughts he didn't want to admit the thoughts that made you annoyed "Bye." You said coldly, he hated that, he hated this, he hated you but he hated that blank tone most of all. He watched you leave not saying a word he couldn't bring himself to

➺ "I can change you into something that can be loved."

𝔰𝔲𝔟-𝔷𝔢𝔯𝔬

➺ You helped Quan Chi create his monster of a brother Noob Saibot. And something which isn't a secret not even now and not even then, was that your eyes now aimed to take the Lin Kuei

➺ Sub-Zero is the leader of this clan, he swore an oath to protect and serve the Lin Kuei, and should anything, anyone pose any kind of threat to the clan whatever that threat might be was to be exterminated. Unfortunately, he was the threat. Every time you decided to waltz into the Lin Kuei compound and were granted entrance you posed a threat. And every time you pulled him into your arms he became a threat. For his weakness for the pleasure you could provide put the Lin Keui in constant danger.

➺ He was so pathetic when he was in your arms. With every rough touch you set upon his body, came a guttural groan. You were feral to him. You were festering upon him like a flame. Burning him with every kiss.

➺ He was so....unused to this. A virgin when you first had him. He was unmarried and never married previously. Sex was never a thought in his mind and love came 5th in the Lin Kuei. In the Lin Kuei love was given to you by your parents, not a spouse or a lover.

➺ How could he allow something like this to go on, how could his weakness allow him to let the person who was partially responsible for turning his brother into a revenant take his virginity, and for the next few months allow you to continue this sexual relationship. For months now.

➺ At some point, he encountered his brother Noob Saibot and after the fight, while Noob was about to teleport away he taunted his brother on precisely how he had you first, and that you'd never be his.

➺ Perhaps the sibling rivalry was still there or maybe he was serious. Either way Sub-Zero made it a point to no longer hesitate when having sex with you. Learning all too quickly to fuck you like a pro. He should have killed you all those times you crawled through his window, pushing him against a nearby wall and biting his neck. He should have strangled you the moment you wrapped your own hands around his neck and squeezed it lightly. He should have froze you in time the moment your warm hand grabbed his cock.

➺ Sometimes he wishes you would have killed him to stop or prevent the inevitable shame he brought upon the Lin Kuei by loving a partner who did not love him or the Lin Kuei back. Instead wanted to help Frost take over.

➺ His hands held your hips far more gently than he should have and that began to piss you off. He held you with his eyes with adoration, the first and only body he knows more about than his own. Every scar, every mark, every blemish, and every bit of beauty he held in his hands when he touched you. You growled, grabbed his hand, and pushed them off you, in a swift movement you pushed off of him, Sub-Zero watched with blind fondness as you grabbed your clothes and threw them on "Just stop!" You shouted rushing to the door and slamming it shut behind you. Sub-Zero was lost in a puppy love sort of trance. Could he never love you? Could your heart and his pride never allow it?

➺ "Could you ever allow yourself to obsess over me, as I am obsessed with you?"

𝔫𝔬𝔬𝔟 𝔰𝔞𝔦𝔟𝔬𝔱/𝔟𝔦-𝔥𝔞𝔫 -

➺ He tried to resist your temptation. He tried for the sake of the Lin Kuei to resist you, you were named Quan Chi's Left Hand, often called The Temptor. However, this was different, at least it was different for Bi-Han. You saw the dark ideas that plagued his head, saw his thoughts, and used him against him.

➺ Bi-Han could resist no more. The Lin Kuei felt more like a trap than a clan as the days went on. Bi-Han felt no love and no support from his dead parents' memory or his clan members. He felt nothing but he felt you. He felt your beating heart against the back of his spine. He felt the hand that explored his abs, he felt the hand that wrapped around his cock pumping it with a tight fist.

➺ Bi-Han felt your lips against his neck biting and licking the wound, he heard the sweet whispers in your voice every time you told him to surrender. You told him to surrender his strength, surrender his loyalty to the Lin Kuei, and surrender his identity to your master Quan Chi. But before he surrendered all that, he should surrender himself to you.

➺ Before Bi-Han became Noob Saibot he was mad for you. You had Bi-Han at your feet. You were giving him this intense feeling of something that compensated for the lack of affection he was given. You turned his strength for the Lin Kuei against him. And in turn, gave him the strength to go AWOL on the Lin Kuei.

➺ During those days you knew where to find Bi-Han. He was in your bed for months. He was not exactly a virgin, he had some experience when he and another Lin Kuei member attempted to have sex but unfortunately only ended in both of them being scared out of their wits. You however showed him what you wanted and sometimes waited patiently for him to give it to you.

➺ All was fine for the few months he left your chambers until an encounter with a vengeful scorpion left him to fall into the abyss. And Quan Chi saw an opportunity to use his necromancy for an interesting pet project.

➺ Noob Saibot was born and he felt nothing. Except for an odd feeling in his chest when he saw you walk by alongside Quan Chi. Your eyes were empty, and it was as if Noob Saibot finally realized the game you played with his past self Bi-Han. You looked at him without interest. Like you got what you wanted from him and didn't care to have more. Didn't care for him. You got what you wanted Bi-Hans identity for Quan Chi so he could massacre The Shirai Ryu and pin it on Bi-Han.

➺ You were his enemy for all intents and purposes. Only he had not expected a sliver of Bi-Hans conscious to remain. At night when Noob Saibot attempted to meditate he could hear screams. Not screams of pain. And in the darkness of his imagination he watched himself and Saibot fuck you in his head. Saibot held you to him as Noob used you to chase his high.

➺ He craved you. He needed you to give in to him. He wanted to surrender to you as Bi-Han has. But now, now you've changed you see him as a nuisance and when he managed to catch you before a fight he asked that exact question "You avoid us. Death is unavoidable. So why try to fight it?" He asked twirling his scythe. "Bi-Han loved me because I manipulated him to do so. I sense something in your soul, something that feels something for me, that I did not put there intentionally."

➺ "Life could not dwell in my heart, so the image of you will do just as well."

𝔧𝔞𝔵 -

➺ An enemy of Sonya's was an enemy of his. That's what he told himself when he first met you. The moment your eyes landed on him there was a villainous smirk that crossed your lips. You were Kano's Mad Dog and Jax also hated Kano. Only Jax couldn't bring himself to hate you. Not when your lips looked so pretty on his cock.

➺ Why you? Why Kano's Mad Dog. The sex was just so good. There were days when Jax wanted to fuck you nice and proper, then there were days, usually after he found out the terrible deeds you've done on the news, where he just wanted to fuck you till you couldn't move.

➺ After Jacqui left the house, in came you. You saved him from the sad depressive loneliness that was his home. He put away the beer more than usual so that he was sober when you dropped by and when you eventually find the spare key he attempts to hide and enters his home, scaring him half to death when you enter his bed while he sleeps.

➺ He wakes up with you silently beside or on top of him. He knows what you want, before you even speak, which is usually good because he hates you and more often than not doesn't want you to say anything, as all you usually have to say is something cocky.

➺ After the fact he usually lays down staring at the ceiling with labored breathing, ashamed of what he had done. What if Sonya finds out? What if Jacqui finds out?

➺ Fortunately for you and unfortunately for him the moment you roll over and begin to play with his Manhood all his worries disappear if but for a short while. And his mind fills with thoughts of you. Of your body. Of your sweet voice praising him for giving it to you rough.

➺ With Vera he was always gentle with her, always asking her if he was doing too much, if she was comfortable in this position. He was always so...careful not wanting to hurt her. And Vera was always, always gentle with him. He made love with Vera. But with You, it was rough, it was harsh, you praised him for being almost brutal with his pace and growled at him when he even dared try to be all sweet soft, and loving. You were wild and he was in denial what an interesting match.

➺ When you left more often than not it was in silence because you were never good at goodbyes and you never cared if he had wanted you to say something anything to break the uncomfortable silence because, in the end, you got what you wanted from the Special Forces lap dog. And it always made you just a bit annoyed with him when he looked at you like...like that. Like you were fuckin Vera Incarnate.

➺ When you put on your clothes you sit on the bed. Jax sat on a small table in his room pouring a whiskey and finishing a cigar "You're acting like you expect something more from me." You said coldly. "I do. Y'know, you don't sneak into someone's house and fuck the owner every night if you don't feel something-" "I DON'T FEEL ANYTHING!" You shouted swiftly leaving his room in a flash.

➺ "You're an exotic animal that can't be tied down and won't let any too close. But everything can be tamed."

𝔨𝔞𝔫𝔬 -

➺ The Australian asshole was not new to being Devious and using sex to get what he wanted. He was much like you in a way, only compared to you, you at least had morals to the very least. Kano knew the weak were more susceptible to being used and the strong are most susceptible to abusing the weak he knew this and he lived by it in a silent sort of way.

➺ You were Red Dragon, he was Black Dragon, arch enemies. The only problem is that you both decided to go undercover as Special Forces agents at the same time. Tension grew between you too as you had to play the good neighbor policy not trying to blow your cover.

➺ Kano however was rather lazy with it. Special Forces were starting to look into him but luckily he began to get chummy with Sonya and Sonya was starting to like him during a meeting, You and Kano sat across from each other at the table listening to the debriefing Sonya was giving. Sonya was talking about the Red Dragon and Kano said something that nearly gave up your identity had you not kicked his leg so very hard under that table causing him to yelp.

➺ Let's just say that the very moment he realized your legs were in reach of his crotch had him getting a bit wild.

➺ What started as a game of very risque footsie led to him visiting your room in the barracks and leading you away. Once you defected from the Special Forces and left it wasn't long before Kano decided to do the same only foolishly entering a Mortal Kombat Tournament.

➺ A few days after Kano's initial freedom he sought you out, first as a peace treaty and almost immediately turning into sex as Kano was a rather insatiable man. He knew that no one in the Black Dragon would agree with this, hell, if he were any more foolish he would use this to his gain, killing you and taking over the Red Dragon. Only he liked it too much. He liked you too much and it began messing with his head.

➺ His urges began to become obsessed over you. You were dangerous, he liked dangerous. You fucked him like he would fuck someone who wasn't worth shit. You took your pleasure from him disregarding his needs.

➺ No. No, he couldn't blackmail you he couldn't hurt you. He needed you to satisfy him like only you do. He wasn't one to question why he was so desperately in need of you, he didn't ask why, or how, or what because he was fine with being obsessed with you he's fine. With it. You are his drug and he was perfectly fine with being addicted. No need to wonder or worry. What could anyone really expect Kano's unethical and morally incorrect.

➺ You pushed yourself up off the bar counter as the hard oak rubbed way too harshly on your bare back. Kano groaned and pulled his cock out of you, stumbling backward till he stumbled into a booth. You smirked and jumped off the bar picking up your clothes and walking about in the nude "You're pathetic." You say chugging a bottle of alcohol after. "Mhm. Same time tomorrow?" Kano asks slightly hopefully. "I'm busy. I'll be back whenever I decide to."

➺ "You'll be mine. I don't care what I have to do. I'll kill the special Forces just for you."

𝔟𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔨𝔞 -

➺ You wanted Tarkatans to die. You wanted to cleanse Outworld of them, why? Who knows, most say you just decided to pick the most sadistic pastime and that was to kill the Tarkatans. Others said you were hired by the Great Emperor Shao Kahn to kill the Tarkatans and hopefully Baraka at the same time for....downsizing.

➺ The first time the Fakas of the Tarkatans saw you was when you burned down one of his villages and he was helping his people escape. He saw your silhouette a shadow atop a hill standing there staring at the chaos. He dropped everything he was doing and ran towards the figure but when he got atop the hill no one was there except for this sweet scent that lingered in the air. It smelled like the exotic fruits of Outworld. It also smelled like Tarkatan blood.

➺ When he tracked you down all those days ago he had not expected to get beaten in Kombat and he certainly hadn't expected to find the person who was assaulting him to be so damn attractive and he sure as shit wasn't expecting to find himself harder than all the rocks in hell. When you straddle him during the fight to finish the job you certainly were not counting on whatever was snug between your warm thighs getting bigger with each movement.

➺ That was the initial start of this sexual relationship. You would sneak into the Tarkatans war camp, crawl under the tent flaps, and into bed with him where he would fuck you till the day after tomorrow.

➺ Every time you left his company after having him you were always left with at least 10 permanent scars along your lower back, hips, and thighs. What you did note was that he must have had a breeding kink or some such because by the end of it all he left quite the mess on you.

➺ Tarkatans were territorial so perhaps the first sign of his growing obsession for you was when he bit your neck permanently leaving his mark on your skin that told other Tarkatans you were his.

➺ The second time something was wrong was when he found you flirting with someone, naturally for the sake of gaining information, and when he spotted this he swiftly eliminated the person you attempted to fancy. This caused some wild hate sex that made Baraka growl to the moon and back.

➺ For all these days he gave into his lust for you, left low Morale to his people. They distrusted his leadership, believing he was being controlled by an earthrealmer slut, believing he lost his sense of honor as he had no wish to avenge the fallen Tarkatans that died by your hands. He fought a fellow challenger every day in an attempt to beat his loyalty out of them to which it partially worked. For every fight came another fuck at night. He wondered if he was doing the right thing as a leader....as the Fakas to the Tarkatans. But he couldn't resist you. You brought out the animal in him. Satisfied his lust. He needed you like he needed air.

➺ He attempted to hold you to him. To keep your body close. No matter how sweat-ridden the both of you were. He wanted to breathe in the sweet scent of your skin. Trail his long tongue along your thighs the next time he wakes up. Play with you till you begged him to fuck you. Mark your chest with his cum. But you still pulled away "You think I belong to you." You said. "Don't you? I've ruined you for another man, I spilled my seed in you every day." Baraka growled stroking his cock at the sight of you standing up, your body "Heh. You belong to me. You're mine. I will never be yours. Claim another and I'll bury you with them."

➺ "Don't you know a koin has two sides? I'll hurt you and whatever man or woman dare take you from me. I'll kill them."

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𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: Hey y'all it's Leif here, hope you enjoyed this work! If you like it lemme know. Writing this I was listening to "FU in my head" by Cloudy June. I recommend listening to it while reading!

Gif Credits:

Shao Kahn gif by solidsmax

Johnny Cage gif by mortal-kombat11

Scorpion gif by mortal-kombat 11

Sub-Zero gif by hollywoods-star

Bi-Han from the movie Mortal Kombat gif by temporaryusername2015

Jax gif by thedestinysunknown

Kano gif by fortheloveofaminorcharacter

Baraka gif by raidentalfloss

Anime Cigarette Case by fly-me-to-the-moon